


Glühwein

by MockingJayFlyingFree



Series: The Glühwein Series [1]
Category: Hunger Games (2012), Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Foursome, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 13:26:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MockingJayFlyingFree/pseuds/MockingJayFlyingFree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peeta thinks his wife, Katniss, is too pure to have any dirty sexual fantasies. It turns out he's wrong. Very wrong. When the opportunity arises, will they make her fantasies come true?</p><p>Written for the Hunger Games Holiday Exchange 2013.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glühwein

**Author's Note:**

  * For [authoresskika](https://archiveofourown.org/users/authoresskika/gifts).



> This fic was written for BaronessKika for the Hunger Games Holiday Exchange 2013. 
> 
> BaronessKika, you certainly didn’t give me an easy challenge…! Here’s the one I chose from the three I was given:
> 
> “Everlark enters a poly-relationship with any other pairing compiled from the given list of characters. Bonus points for a scene with ALL in bed together.”
> 
> Gulp.
> 
> I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve never been in a poly-relationship, let alone had a foursome… I’m very far out of my comfort zone here. I’ll give it a go, though! You know, it’s Christmas, after all. It’s the time for family and friendship and love and… sharing and… foursomes? Because you bet I’ll go for those bonus points.
> 
> Thank you so much to Lbug84 for her amazing betaing skills and moral support. You are the best! lauralulubee preread this fic for me, thank you so much for your help! 
> 
> We wish you a dirty Christmas  
> we wish you a dirty Christmas  
> we wish you a dirty Christmas  
> and a happy (smutty) new year!
> 
> Merry Christmas, BaronessKika!

**October**

This is perhaps the only good thing to come from that bitch of my mother-in-law ever, I think to myself. Obviously apart from her son. I look at the contents of my cup with a delirious smile, and then empty it.

Glühwein.

I’ve tried calling it mulled wine – which is what it really is – in my husband's presence exactly once. It was the first time Peeta introduced me to this beverage, which he claims is an essential part of fall and winter. It’s heated red wine, spiced with cloves, cinnamon sticks, citrus and some other ingredients I'm not quite sure about. I never make it, I leave that to Peeta. I just drink it.

A lot.

“It’s called Glühwein, Katniss! **Glühwein**!” Peeta’s slurring. He’s even drunker than I am. His mother is Austrian-born, and even though her family emigrated when she was two, their Glühwein is still holy.

Not that I mind, because I love Glühwein too, - as long as she’s far, far away from here, of course. Which she is. Thank God.

It’s dark and rainy outside, but inside, the fire is burning in the fireplace, the room is filled with candles, and we’ve had far more Glühwein to drink than we should have. I’m at the stage where I can barely walk, and Peeta is just one big, drunken smile, lying on his back on the carpet, looking up at the ceiling. “It’s spinning, Katniss, I swear,” he says. “It’s spinning! It’s like magic!” I giggle, pouring myself another cup. What little is left in the pot is nearly cold, I realize sadly. I’m only half-dressed. We had a spontaneous fuck in the kitchen as the second bottle was warming on the stove. Our embrace was heated, but so was the stove  – or perhaps our quickie just wasn’t quick enough. Either way, we ended up boiling the Glühwein. Alcohol was everywhere except in the pot. Peeta tried inhaling to catch some of the alcohol that had evaporated, and I told him he was an idiot.

We had to start over. Luckily, we have plenty of red wine.

Peeta is only wearing his boxer shorts. Lying there on the carpet, with his arms and legs outstretched, he looks a bit like that famous Leonardo da Vinci drawing. Except he’s wearing boxer shorts, he has shorter hair, he’s not that muscled, and… Well, okay, the only similarities are really that they are both men, and they are lying with their hands and legs stretched out. And that he’s a perfect specimen, of course.

“Katnissssss,” he says, and I lift my head to look up at him. He wants something, I know that tone. He surely can’t want another round in bed (or on the couch), he must be far too drunk for that. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you…” He hiccups once, and I giggle like a maniac. The fact that I actually giggle says everything about just how drunk I am. “…ask you for a long time,” he continues.

I lift an eyebrow, or try to, anyway. “What?”

“It’s kind of… embarrassing. So I haven’t dared to.”

“What is it?”

He’s not listening to me. “I haven’t dared to because you’re so **pure** , Katniss. And I thought that perhaps the perfect Katniss Everdeen-Mellark didn’t have…” He hiccups again, then continues, “…any dark and dirty thoughts.” Oh, so this is what’s been on his mind.

I feel somewhat offended that he thinks I’m too “pure” to have “dark and dirty thoughts.” Whatever he means by that. Do I come across as _inhibited_ in bed? I try to think, but it’s hard, and my brain is clouded by Glühwein.

Am I a prude?

“Spill it, Mellark.”

“Okay, so… We never talked about **your** favorite sexual fantasies. I mean, I’ve told you about mine.” Yes, he did, years ago, and that’s something I’ll probably never recover from. “But you…  You never told me about yours.” He grins, he’s sitting up with some difficulty, looking expectantly at me.

I don’t answer.

“Do you have any?”

I don’t answer.

“Come on, Katniss, you’re no fun! Do you expect me to believe that you don’t have any sexual fantasies at all? I mean, what do you think about when you touch yourself when I’m not there? Because I know that you do.” I confessed that to him once, and he got so horny thinking about it that he had me four times that night. And I ended up with a urinary tract infection the next day. “And don’t try to feed me a lie about you thinking about me.”

“I, uh…” How do I get out of this? This is the one thing I **can’t** tell him.

But I’m warm and tired and drunk on Glühwein, and my tongue starts moving all on its own. Traitor. “It wouldn’t really be a **lie** if I told you I think of you,” I say, slurring slightly. “It would be kind of a half truth. Or half lie. Whatever.”

His eyebrows shoot up, and his smile grows even wider, nearly impossibly large, like the Cheshire cat. “Are you saying…? Wow, you’re so **kinky** , Katniss! A **threesome**?”

I blush furiously now. “Uh, not exactly…” I try to do the math, but I’m not even good at math when I’m sober. When I’m drunk, it’s almost impossible. “Actually, it’s… a quarter truth? A third? A fifth? Oh fuck,” I say, frustrated.

“One fifth… One fourth… Katniss, exactly how many men do you fantasize about at the same time?” He’s crawled over to the couch, perhaps he’s not even able to walk anymore, and he’s leaning over me. His lips are close to mine. He’s hovering above me, but not touching me. I try to focus on his face, but I can’t. My eyes are crossing, and he’s all blurry, but I can see his lusty grin. “Or are they…” he’s practically drooling now – “… girls?”

“Oh hell, it’s not **that** many,” I hiss. “It’s only four. I mean, including me. You, me, Finnick and Annie. So four.”

Oh crap! As the words leave my drunken mouth, I regret them instantly. It had, in my alcohol-numbed brain, felt okay to tell him about fantasizing about a foursome… But I hadn’t intended to reveal that the two other participants were people we actually **know**. I should’ve fed him some kind of lie about the two other people besides Peeta and me being movie stars or just imaginary porn stars or whatever, something innocent. Brangelina. Joshifer, even. Anyone. He would’ve bought it. But Annie and Finnick? I curse myself, I think I do it only on the inside, but I realize I’ve said the words out loud only when Peeta starts laughing. “Did I say that out loud as well?” I pout, and he nods.

“Yeah, you did.” He’s suddenly serious. Then he kisses me - a long, hard, drunken kiss. He tastes of Glühwein. “I take it back, Katniss. You are **so** not pure.”

He tears my shirt as he tries to free me from it. “And it turns me on so much… God, I need to fuck you right now.” He moves down to my neck, kissing me, and I open my thighs for him. I’m dead tired and more drunk than I’ve been in years, but surely I can take another round. All I really **have** to do is lie there, and I think I can do that.

And then… Nothing.

He’s snoring against my neck.

He’s fallen asleep. Well, Katniss Everdeen-Mellark, what a seductress I must be. My own husband falls asleep on me while trying to fuck me.

He must be so incredibly wasted. Which is probably a good thing. Hopefully he won’t remember a word of what I told him tomorrow morning.

The next day is just one massive hangover, for both of us. Peeta doesn’t bring up my confession from last night, and neither do I.

I thank God, multiple times, for Glühwein and amnesia. Thank you for saving me from complete and utter embarrassment. I’d never hear the end of it if he remembered.

  

* * *

 

**November**

Another dark fall evening spent on the couch. Peeta’s on the phone, and I can’t help but overhear his part of the conversation while I’m flipping through all the channels. So many channels, but nothing to watch. Nothing. There’s a rerun of _Baywatch_ on one, and I cringe as I stop the channel surfing momentarily to watch it.

“Really? Oh, man, that sucks… They’ll have to tear up **everything**?” I wonder what he’s talking about.

“Who is it?” I ask, and he mouths “Finnick” back to me.

“Up to three months!? Oh, that’s… Yes…  But they’ll pay for a hotel, right? Oh… Damn, I forgot about that. Okay… Yes… I’ll ask her…” This doesn’t sound good. “I’ll call you back in five minutes, okay?” He hangs up.

Peeta looks sheepish, as he always does when he wants something. “Uhm, Katniss… Finnick and Annie have had a water leak in their apartment. A massive one. Their idiot neighbor left the water on in the tub, then went to work, and it overflowed.  The drain was clogged, so the water didn’t drain away. It overflowed, spilling through their ceiling. The water was running for nearly seven hours before anyone stopped it. They’ll have to tear the whole place down, everything’s got to be redone.

“Wow, that’s terrible,” I say, feeling very lucky it’s not me. “The insurance will cover it, right?”

“Yes, the neighbor’s insurance covers everything. Including their hotel stay for however long it takes for the apartment to be redone.”

“Oh, that’s good.”

“But…”

“There’s a but?”

“Buttercup.”

Buttercup is their cat. He’s an Exotic – which Annie claims is a short-haired Persian cat. It’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen, with an almost non-existent nose, and the teeth are crooked. The lower jaw isn’t really aligned with the upper jaw, so one of its canines is always visible outside the mouth, making him look half crazy. The eyes are runny and look like they are ready to pop out of the skull at any moment, his breath reeks, and the thing is **vicious**. Vicious, I tell you. If Annie or Finnick aren't looking, he will bite me.

Buttercup hates me, and the feeling is mutual.

“The thing is, the insurance company will pay for a kennel. But Annie thinks that Buttercup will hate it so much that he will get sick. _He’s such a fragile little thing_.” He imitates Annie as he says the last sentence, and I snort.

“Not as fragile as my fingers and toes,” I tell him.

“Well, uh, obviously they can’t take him with them to the hotel.”

“Peeta… We are NOT going to babysit their cat.”

“Actually, uh… They wondered if they could all stay here. With Buttercup. Annie doesn’t want to leave Buttercup with anyone else for so long.”

I just blink, dumbfounded. Annie, Finnick and Buttercup **here** for three months? Or maybe even longer. You can never trust contractors. When they say three days, it’s usually six. And if the bill isn’t doubled, it’s tripled.

“They could have our guestroom. And they’ll pay us. They’ll get money from the insurance company. We could use the extra cash, and… Besides, they are great fun.” We’ve been good friends for years. Annie is actually Peeta’s ex-girlfriend. They went to college together. They met again years later, when they were both in new relationships – with myself and Finnick – and we all hit it off. Annie and I even work at the same high school. But we haven’t actually lived together, obviously.

I think back to my confession from last month, and once again I thank mother alcohol for her gift of amnesia. I have to try to get out of this somehow, though. I have to.

“I don’t know, Peeta… Wouldn’t it be weird? I mean, we’re not exactly in college anymore, having roommates seems kind of…. And that cat, I mean, I really don’t want it in our house.” I’ve started rambling now, but I don’t stop. “What if he gets lost outside? Moving to a new place and all?”

“He’s an indoor cat.”

Oh, I forgot. “That means we’ll have to have a litter box, and they stink, and…”

“Finnick says they use some kind of ridiculously expensive high-tech litter that doesn’t smell at all. And they’ll clean out the litter box every day. He also says Buttercup _is the **sweetest** little thing_.” Again, he imitates Annie.

I roll my eyes. “I guess he’s sweet if you compare him to a vampire, or, I don’t know… David Hasselhoff…” His bare chest flashes over the screen, and I shudder. I need to change the channel. Now. “Sweetness is relative.”

Yes, definitely rambling.

“Katniss, it sounds like you’re trying to get out of this. Why?” He looks at me, and his blue eyes are all too innocent. He smirks, lifts an eyebrow.

Oh fuck. OH FUCK.

He remembers. He remembers. He remembers.

He’s remembered all along, he’s just been waiting for the perfect moment to tease me mercilessly. Has he told **them**? I wonder desperately. I feel the heat on my face. I’m probably redder than a tomato. Peeta’s grin gets wider as he sees me opening and closing my mouth, like a fish out of water.

“Good, then it’s settled. I’ll call them and tell them they can move in.”

“When?” I croak.

“Right now, of course. Their apartment is water-damaged.”

Oh fuck.

“Tell them that if that ugly cat of theirs destroys the couch, they’re buying us a new one.”

“Oh, I’m sure we can figure out other ways of them paying us back if that happens,” Peeta laughs. I quickly make my escape to the bathroom, while he’s laughing at my expense, and I think _It’s going to be three very, very long months._

 

* * *

 

As I open the door, I’m greeted by hissing.

“Hi, Buttercup,” I sigh, and his orange eyes glare up at me through the door of the crate. “Come inside, please.”

Peeta’s made dinner, homemade tomato soup and focaccia. “It smells divine,” Annie sighs. They’ve brought a few boxes of things with them, whatever they’ve been able to salvage. It looks like photo albums and books, mostly. Plus food and a litter box for Buttercup. Annie looks tired and gloomy, and so does Finnick – not that I can blame them.

“I think our idiot neighbor has Alzheimer's,” she mutters over dinner.

“She’s 29 years old,” Finnick objects.

“She’s a pothead, then.”

“Okay, that I can believe.”

Silence. I can only begin to imagine what it must feel like to have their place completely ruined and uninhabitable for months. I also realize I’d feel a lot more sympathetic if I hadn’t been stupid enough to confess my silly fantasy to Peeta. I hardly dare to look at him. I feel as if he’s smirking at me, even though he probably isn’t. Is he? I look up at him briefly, and his blue eyes are… Oh shit.

I know what he’s thinking about.

Damn him.

I blush.

Damn **me**.

Annie looks at me, and she frowns slightly when she notices my blush. She can’t possibly know why I’m blushing, thank God. “Uh, so… We talked to the insurance company. They can cover five thousand bucks for three months… Would that be okay?”

I almost choke on my focaccia. For us, a baker and a high school teacher, that’s a small fortune. “Seriously?”

She shrugs. “It’s cheaper than three months in a hotel, meals and the cat being at a kennel for three months, anyway. I guess they get off easy.”

“Sure, it’s fine. No problem.”

“I guess we should establish some ground rules, then?” Peeta says. “I mean, we’re four adults, and as Katniss pointed out to me earlier, we’re not in college anymore. We’re used to doing things our own way, and I don’t want things to get weird or difficult because we didn’t talk about how we’re going to do this. So what if we all chip in to pay for groceries? We can go shopping once a week, and split the bill.” Everyone nods, and he continues. “We have dinner together? It could be fun. We can come up with a schedule, I guess, who’s responsible for the cooking. And we clean the house every other week? We only have one bathroom, so we need to have a showering schedule as well. And no long showers, or the last person to shower will get ice cold water.”

Peeta is always so organized.

“Sure, that sounds great. But if you keep making food like this, Peeta, I’ll end up like a hippo,” Annie groans, leaning back in her chair. “This is the best dinner I’ve had in ages.”

“We’re more into take-out,” Finnick says, apologetically. “But we can cook if we have to, no problem.”

“Take-out is fine, if that’s what you want on your nights. There’s also one more thing,” Peeta continues. “We only have two bedrooms, and they are next to each other. There’s not much sound insulation in this old building, so… Let’s agree to try to _keep it down_ , shall we?”

Annie rolls her eyes. “What makes you think that we…?”

“Who said I was talking about **you**?”

“Experience.”

“Ew, don’t remind me,” Finnick says, but he’s laughing. He’s secure in their relationship, I’ve never once seen him jealous. He loves Annie, and he knows Annie loves him, and that’s enough for him. There’s no reason to be jealous. I kind of admire that. I love Peeta, and know that he loves me, but still he can get pretty possessive sometimes, and he’s been jealous on more than one occasion. Once he even got into a fist fight with another man over me. Which was kind of hot, on one level, but also childish and unnecessary. I’m already his, there’s no reason to prove anything.

“Fine, so we all agree, then. We split the expenses, meals and chores, and no loud sex. Sounds good?” I say, wanting to change the subject.

Everyone agrees.

I have to admit, it is kind of nice to be four around the dinner table. Finnick is so easy-going, and Annie is shy yet really funny. We share a few bottles of red wine. I suspect Peeta brings out the red wine to cheer them up - after all, their home is effectively ruined.

The next morning, Peeta gets up at five to go to work as usual, and the rest of us have breakfast together. I enjoy not having breakfast alone for once. I usually just wolf down a bowl of cereal and run to work, but now we sit down and have an actual meal, with coffee and orange juice while we’re chatting and reading the newspaper. It’s… nice. Annie and I commute to work together. We drive together in my car, and we’re chatting the whole way about work, the students, our colleagues.

I could get used to this. Perhaps this was a good idea after all.

I keep thinking that Annie and Finnick’s moving in is a good idea ...until the next night, when we hear tell-tale sounds of their love-making through the wall. Peeta and I have basically collapsed in bed, too tired from our day to even think about having sex, but that’s clearly not the case in our guest bedroom.

It starts off innocently enough – with some muffled sounds that could have been anything, really. But then – “Oooooooh, Finnick.”

Okay, that can only be one thing. I hold my breath, pretending to be asleep. We’re spooning, we always fall asleep like this. Peeta is lying behind me, holding me, our bodies molded together. I thought he was asleep, too, but I feel more than hear how his breathing quickens, and his grip around me tightens ever so slightly.

Then there’s a soft thudding sound, clearly a head hitting the headboard, and the squeaking of the springs in the mattress.

They are trying to be quiet. I’m almost sure of it. Annie is, however, unable to hold back soft moans, and judging by the timing with the thuds against the wall, she’s moaning every time he pounds into her.

Oh God.

I suddenly realize that I’m squeezing my thighs shut, rubbing them against each other. My body is betraying me, and my panties are soaking wet.

And Finnick – he’s groaning. Not loudly, but definitely groaning… Oh, he’s starting to swear. I can’t hear all of it, but it’s clear it’s a lot of “fuck, fuck, fuck…” Then something I can’t quite hear. Something about “tight”, then “I’m coming, fuck…” He’s a dirty talker. Great. Just great. “You feel so good…”

Not helping.

I realize now that Peeta is most definitely awake. His erection is pressing into the small of my back, and he’s bending down to kiss my neck. “It’s turning you on, isn’t it?” He whispers in my ear.

I don’t answer, trying to cling to the illusion of being asleep. But there’s no fooling him. He’s suddenly plunging his hand into the front of my shorts. His thick fingers know this particular territory very well, and he immediately finds what he's looking for, the very wet proof of just how turned on I am.

Damn it.

He chuckles, and I gasp indignantly. “I could smell it,” he groans. He gently and rhythmically bucks against my back.

On the other side of the wall, Annie and Finnick are clearly nearing the end, and apparently, trying to be silent is getting more difficult. Not that I can blame them. The thudding sound is increasing in frequency, there are a lot of “fucks” and “ooooooooh’s,” the latter from Annie.

Peeta has found my clit, and he’s flicking it in the way that only he knows how. I have to bite down on the pillow to stifle a moan. As I hear Annie and Finnick have what sounds like a simultaneous orgasm on the other side of the wall, I take a deep breath and remove his hand from my shorts.

“Oh come on, Katniss,” he groans, but I’m unrelenting.

“Good night, Peeta,” I say. I move away from him, lying down on my stomach, and facing away.

It takes a long time for me to fall asleep.

 

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Peeta leaves for work before the rest of us wake up. I don’t bring up what happened the night before, and neither do Finnick and Annie. They probably don’t know we heard them at all. They must have really tried to keep it down. I don’t have the heart to tell them just how much we heard.

Tonight, we get a repeat performance. Shit. Are they like this **every** night? Aren’t they ever too tired? Doesn’t Annie have headaches? Or Finnick, for that matter?

The thudding, the moaning and the “fuck’s” are back. Peeta doesn’t even try to pretend as if he’s asleep tonight. He’s on his back, and I’m lying with my head on his shoulder. He’s stroking my back lovingly, while clearly listening to what’s going on in our guest bedroom. Then his hand travels across my arm, over to my breast. His finger touches my nipple - it’s already hard against my tank top. His hand slips inside, and I can’t hold back a gasp.

Annie and Finnick must change positions, because there’s momentary silence. Then I realize they must have moved out of the bed to stand against the wall, because I can hear Annie’s moans even more clearly now, and the thudding sound is gone. I vaguely hear their skin meeting over and over again.

“Fuck,” I mutter. “Three months of **this**?”

“Um… Can I tell you something?” I look up at him. I can just barely see his features in the darkness. “It might shock you.” My breast is in his palm now, he’s squeezing it carefully. I nod my head.

He takes a deep breath. “I, um… Back when I was with Annie…” I don’t really want to be reminded that they were together. Especially not now that she’s moaning just two yards away from our bed. “We were, well… You know, we were in college, and there was… well, you know, the whole _college experience_.” College experience? I’m starting to realize that his college experience must have been pretty different from mine. “… And, well, we were twenty or twenty-one, and Annie was really into… Trying different things.” This can’t be good. This really can’t be good. “And once we…” he pauses, and his hand travels down between my legs, finding the evidence of my arousal there. “…tried a threesome.”

I gasp, both from the movements of his hand and from his revelation. “Peeta!” I hiss, and he hushes me. “Why haven’t you told me before?” Peeta looks so innocent, such a perfect husband. My mother would have loved him, if only she had been sane. Any mother would. He cooks and he cleans and he’s patient and passionate and easy-going and he’s had a threesome. A **threesome**! I’ve only ever had two lovers, Gale and Peeta, and I certainly didn’t have them at the same time!

“It never came up.”

When the fuck is the right time for something like this to “come up”? Oh, by the way, I had a threesome with my girlfriend back in college? Nice weather today, isn’t it? “Then why tell me now?” I whisper, wishing I had the strength of will to remove his hand from my shorts, but I don’t. Damn my weak, weak body.

“Well, in light of… your recent confession… I thought it might interest you. That’s all.”

On the other side of the wall, it’s clearly time for another synchronized orgasm. We hear it more loudly than last night. Perhaps because they are, or at least Annie is, practically glued to the wall. To my embarrassment, I feel my body contracting as well, my head is thrown backwards, and I have to fight really hard to keep back the moan that’s in my throat as I come hard against Peeta's hand. It feels weirdly intimate, coming together with them like this. I gasp for air, incredibly aroused and incredibly ashamed at the same time.

Peeta kisses my hair, and we fall asleep.

 

 

* * *

 

Peeta's confession keeps playing on repeat in my brain all day. Thank God I can talk about photosynthesis for days on end without thinking at all, because today all I’m thinking about is Peeta and Annie’s dirty threesome. Thankfully, my students don’t seem to realize.

In a break between two classes, I can’t hold it back anymore. I have to text him. “With a girl or a guy?”

As soon as I hit send, I regret it. But he answers back after less than a minute. He must’ve been waiting for me to contact him.

“A guy.”

Oh my GOD. I had kind of thought it would be another girl. I don’t know why. I don’t know if this is a good thing or a bad thing. I feel dizzy, and try to concentrate on my biology book which is lying in front of me, full of notes and scribblings. Photosynthesis, Katniss. **Photosynthesis**. It’s the basis of life on earth, after all. Clearly much more important than silly threesomes, or foursomes. Whatever. Neither can really do much good for the propagation of the human race. Can they? Carbon, oxygen, carbon dioxide, water… Energy from the sun. Carbon, carbon, carbon… The next class comes in through the door, and I smile at them, a smile I desperately hope is friendly and not in any way betraying what I’m really thinking about.

I’m absolutely exhausted by the end of the day. It's only when I see Annie in the parking lot, that I remember that we’re driving together. This is **so** not what I need right now. Images of Annie, Peeta and a mysterious, kinky man in bed together have been plaguing me all day. Annie is happily chatting about her day, which, judging by her conversation, was not completely dominated by seriously dirty scenarios. I just can’t get over the thought that **Peeta** has had a threesome. And Annie, too? She seems so… innocent? Even before she met Finnick? Now, Finnick in a threesome, that’s something I could believe… If I’m being honest with myself, that’s probably the reason why my silly, hormone-clouded brain started fantasizing about him and Annie in the first place. The man simply oozes sex, and he knows it. He’s always seemed like the very open type, and Annie doesn’t. She’s kind and shy and funny and private, a typical good girl.

Well, apparently she isn’t.

When we’re halfway home, Annie suddenly says “Is something wrong, Katniss?” She looks at me, clearly concerned.

“No, why?” I gulp.

“I just… You seem distracted, that’s all. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, sure. Just… tired.” I want to kick myself for that comment, because it opens up for all kinds of questions about last night. Thankfully Annie doesn’t say anything about it.

I’m relieved when we arrive back home, though. It’s Peeta’s turn to make dinner, and he’s outdone himself as usual. He’s off work earlier than the rest of us, so he’s had several hours to prepare. Plus he loves cooking, which is kind of strange, since he does it all the time at work, too. After stuffing ourselves with roasted lamb, mashed potatoes and the most delicious gravy I’ve ever tasted, all washed down with red wine, I practically collapse on the couch. I’m so full I can barely move. I’m supposed to be preparing for tomorrow’s classes, but my head is spinning from the alcohol, and I fall asleep.

When I wake up a few hours later, I’m still full and content, and I realize someone’s wrapped me in a blanket. I stretch, detecting Peeta’s scent, and I know I’m lying with my head in his lap. I look up, and find him watching TV while stroking my hair gently. It’s come out of its usual braid, he must have undone it while I was asleep. I rarely wear my hair down, but I know he loves it when I do. Annie is sitting in the armchair reading a book, clearly being a good girl, and preparing for tomorrow. Finnick is sitting on the couch as well.

My feet are on his lap.

How long have I been lying here? Lying like this feels oddly intimate. I look at Finnick, still sleepy. “Have a nice nap, Katniss?” he asks. There’s something about the twinkle in his eyes…

“Um, yeah… What time is it?”

“Ten to nine.”

I silently curse myself for falling asleep like this, I’m sure I won’t get any sleep tonight. Especially not if Annie and Finnick go at it tonight as well.

And, predictably, they do.

“Seriously, do they have sex **every** night?” I whisper to Peeta. They seem to feel more at home now, because the dirty talk is in full effect on the other side of the wall.

“Well, they are twenty-nine and in love…” Peeta whispers back, tightening his grip on me. “And so are we.”

“What are you suggesting?” I whisper back, annoyed now at the possible hinting that we don’t have enough sex.

“Oh, nothing, only that… I seem to recall that you owe me one.”

I want to tell him that I certainly don’t owe him one for practically assaulting me, or, well not really assaulting me, of course… But making me come without me even really intending to. That orgasm last night took me by complete surprise. Damn him.

I make a sudden decision, startling him by quickly moving, pinning him underneath me. He looks up at me with that look I just can’t get enough of – love, admiration, arousal - every good feeling in the world conjured into those impossibly blue eyes. I can feel his erection throbbing against me already through his cotton boxer shorts. I grind my hips against him, slowly, and his pupils dilate. My hair is loose, falling over my shoulders, and when I bend down to kiss him, it falls like a dark brown sheet around our faces. I kiss him, deeply and with all the passion I can muster, while trying to shut out the moans and the dirty talk on the other side of the wall.

His hands roam my back, pushing up my nightgown, and he only breaks the kiss to throw it away, leaving me naked, save for my white cotton panties. I can’t keep back a loud moan when he cups one breast with his hand, brushing the nipple lightly.

I can usually keep it down if I have to. I pride myself in even being able to come without hardly making a sound. It’s a, well, I call it a talent, that certainly comes in handy sometimes.  Not that I don’t like a bit of audio stimulation. I am turned on by both my own and Peeta’s sounds, but I don’t **have** to. Peeta once got me off underneath the blanket on an overnight plane, and I didn’t make a sound, not one. But now… Peeta’s eyes widen in surprise at my loud moan. He is, of course, very aware of my abilities, not to mention my private nature. He realizes what I did as soon as the sound left my throat – that I **don’t want** to be quiet.

I want them to hear.

“Oh fuck, Katniss,” he hisses, and this time I’m the one who’s suddenly finding myself pinned underneath him. He pulls my panties off, and his boxer shorts are lost somewhere along the way, too. He spread my legs, and I’m already ready for him, which he finds out a second later when the tip of his cock brushes against me. I’m soaking wet for him. “It really turns you on, doesn’t it?” he says, a bit too loudly. Can they hear him?

Wordlessly, I nod. He strokes against me, teasing me, but not entering. The shaft of his cock slides against my clit, over and over again, and I arch my back in response. Another moan is ripped from my throat. This one they must certainly have heard. I don’t know if it’s a coincidence, but the speed on the other side of the wall seems to have picked up.

“Peeta, please, I…” My breath catches. “I need to know. Was it good?”

I don’t have to tell him what I mean by “it”. He nibbles on my ear, panting. “You’ve been thinking about it all day, haven’t you?” He groans. “It’s why you're so wet. You’ve been turned on all day.”

There is no point in denying it, I can’t lie to this man. “Yes.” And as I say the word, he plunges into me.

I hear an animal sound that I realize must come from me, and it’s embarrassingly loud. And now, things on the other side of the wall are definitely louder… faster... “It seems like they enjoy it, too,” Peeta says, so loud I’m sure they must hear him. I’m not sure what he means by “it” – their own sex, or listening to me – but it doesn’t matter. “And yes,” he says, pausing only to kiss me, then he continues, looking me deep in the eyes as he finally starts thrusting, his voice very dark and deep, “it was _hot_.”

My eyes roll back in my head at his words, and he chuckles. I guess I should feel threatened at this, at him admitting that he had hot sex – a hot **threesome** – with our friend, his beautiful ex-girlfriend, who just happens to be fucking her husband three yards away, but I don’t.

It seems our keeping it down in the bedroom deal is off now. Annie’s moans are far from silent, she’s begging him to “take her hard," and judging from his groaning, he is doing just that. But we’re not any better. What happened to my being able to come without making a sound? I’m surprised, again, by an orgasm that seems to come from out of nowhere, and though there are lot of words you could use to describe it, “silent” is not one of them. “Oh fuck, Katniss,” Peeta moans as he hears me scream, but still he doesn’t come himself. He keeps pounding into me, then turns me over, and continues without missing a stroke. I’m barely able to keep up my weight on my elbows. I’m so out of it from the orgasm that just tore through me, and I distantly hear that they must be close on the other side of the wall as well. Do they always come together? I wonder, as I hear Annie shout “Finniiiiiiiick!," clearly at the brink, followed by the guttural sounds I’ve come to realize means he’s about to come. Behind me, Peeta is picking up speed, I can feel him pulsing inside me, he must be so close, too. To my amazement, I feel another orgasm building up inside of me. I rarely come twice in one session, but it has been known to happen, and when I do, I squeeze my eyes shut, screaming into the pillow. Peeta loses it completely when he hears me. He shouts “Oh yes, come for me again!" and then he spills inside me, impossibly deep.

I think I must have been unconscious for just a few seconds, because when I open my eyes again, Peeta is lying on top of me, panting heavily. He’s still inside of me. I can barely breathe, and I can’t find the strength to move at all. “Oh fuck,” Peeta whispers in my ear. “That was… Oh my GOD.”

It’s quiet on the other side of the wall. I realize we must all have come pretty much together, and the thought of that is weird on so many levels that my brain just can’t really get around it. Finally, I need him to move, and I manage to move enough for him to understand that I need to breathe. He rolls off me, still panting, and my entire body is numb. I’m can’t believe what just happened.

Then I hear a voice from the other side of the wall. Finnick. “Good night.” It’s too loud for him to be talking to Annie. I feel as if someone’s punched me in the gut. My eyes widen, and I want to die. I want to die, right now, right here.

Peeta answers back “Good night.”

There’s a giggle from the other room, which can only be from Annie, and I curl up in bed, mortified, wondering how I’m going to be able to face the two of them in the morning.

 

 

* * *

  

A week later, our lives are curiously double-faced. Almost every night, we have loud, and frankly, amazing sex. So do Finnick and Annie, on the other side of that thin wall. After the first time it happened, I thought I’d die of embarrassment the next morning, but no one talked about it. Peeta left early for work, and neither Annie nor Finnick brought it up in any way or acted out of the ordinary at breakfast. It was as if it had never happened.

But of course it had.

The next night, Peeta initiates sex, before Annie and Finnick have even gone to bed. But as soon as they retire, shortly after us, they must hear the sounds of our love-making. They soon start banging against the bedroom wall like there's no tomorrow. I don’t think I’ve ever some so hard in my life. The next day, we are back to being friends again.

It is a frustrating yet intensely arousing situation. I don’t even dare to discuss it with Peeta. I’ve never been one to watch porn, but this is similar. It’s like listening to porn, only it’s actually going on live right next door. Our curious nights aside, living with the two of them is easy and fun. There are no arguments over cleaning and cooking, although in a way it’s like being back in college. I brush my teeth while dancing to a song on the radio with Annie in the morning, and I feel like I’m 19 again. I read the newspaper together with Finnick, and we find that we read at the same pace, and we’re interested in different articles, so we can easily share. I do the dishes with Peeta, while Finnick entertains us with funny stories from his job as a swimming instructor. We all laugh so much our chores are done in no time. Peeta and I were great before, but there’s noticeably more laughter and fun in our house now.

In general, the air is emotionally charged. Light and fun during the day, dark and intense and hot at night.

I don’t know how the others can just go about their daily business pretending that we’re not being turned on by listening to another couple’s sex. But all three of them seem to be doing just that, and I really don’t want to be the one to bring it up, so I don’t.

The only real problem is Buttercup. Every time Annie and Finnick turn their back, he looks at me with those vile orange eyes and tries to bite me. And even when he’s pretending to want me to pet him, he drools on me, and I’m sure he’s doing it on purpose. Either that or he breathes on me. I keep telling Annie she should take him to the vet to have those teeth checked out, but she just rolls her eyes.

 

* * *

 

**Early December**

It’s Friday, and the first snow of the year covers the ground. I’m in a foul mood. I can’t stand the snow. Annie and I decided to take the bus instead of driving because of the snow, only to end up with the bus delayed. It took us nearly two hours to get home. We’ve been texting Finnick and Peeta while we were waiting, so they know we’re late.

When we finally stumble through the door, exhausted, we’re met by the amazing scents of Peeta’s special homemade tomato sauce and…  Glühwein.

“Oh, Glühwein!” Annie says, lightening up instantly. Obviously Peeta introduced her to Glühwein, too. Maybe back when they were a couple. I pale, thinking about what happened the last time Peeta and I had it. Surely he’s not thinking about that now. Is he? It must just be a coincidence. It’s the first snowfall of the year, and Glühwein is a fall slash winter drink, after all. I’m freezing, and frankly some mulled wine, er Glühwein, would be great.

“Care for a drink, ladies?” Finnick smiles. He's coming out into the hall with two cups for us, which we eagerly accept. When I enter the kitchen, I make very sure to avoid meeting Peeta’s eyes, although I do kiss him on the cheek.

“Rough day?” He says, and I blush, although I don’t really know why. It’s not the day that was rough. Well, it was, considering the two hours it took us to get home, but the night before was rougher. Although I can’t tell him, of course.

Several servings of Glühwein later, we’ve ended up in the living room. Peeta’s giving me a drunken footrub, while I’m leaning up against Finnick on the couch. Annie is lying on the floor together with Buttercup, who I eye with suspicion. Peeta has gone from giving me a footrub to moving further up along my ankle and calf to caress the sensitive areas in the hook of my knee. He knows very well I love that, damn him. I want to tell him to stop, but the wine is making it hard to concentrate. Not to mention Finnick’s green eyes are having the same effect.

“So, um… I was thinking about something,” Peeta finally says, and something about his too-casual tone instantly makes me look at him. He’s still caressing my legs with his skilled hands. “So, what we have been doing this last week or so….”

Oh NO! He’s going to bring it up… I blush furiously, but to my surprise, neither Annie nor Finnick do. Annie just looks over at Finnick with a secretive smile, and he returns it. “What about it?” Finnick asks. He’s sinking in closer to me, and his left hand _coincidentally_ touches the exposed skin of my upper arm.

“I just had a feeling that… I’m not the only one who’s really enjoyed it.”

There’s that casual brush over my arm again, and I have to stifle a gasp. Annie takes another sip of Glühwein, and answers “You’re not.” She looks over at Finnick, and they are both smiling.

I look at the floor, desperately trying to figure out how to get out of this situation. What do I answer? What is the safe thing to say? Is there a safe thing to say?

“I, uh…” Great, Katniss. Just great. “I, uh” is always the perfect thing to say, isn’t it? Idiot. I shouldn’t have said anything at all, because now they’re all looking at me. Not in a mocking or sarcastic or mean way, thank goodness, only… Interested. Curious. Peeta raises an eyebrow, and my blush becomes even deeper, although I didn’t know that was humanly possible.

“You too?” Peeta says, while touching **that** spot on the inside of my knee. I can’t suppress a shiver.

“Me too,” I whisper. To my surprise, Peeta smiles happily, like a little boy. He leans forward to kiss me lightly on the lips. “Good. I’m glad,” he whispers.

“So… How do we deal with this?” Finnick says, his voice surprisingly matter-of-fact. Like he’s discussing, I don’t know, a contract or something. “There is an undeniable… attraction. I think we all agree?” Peeta and Annie both nod, and I’m too stunned to move a muscle. My heart is pounding in my chest. Annie is lying on her side on the carpet while petting Buttercup, who is clearly enjoying the attention and not sensing the tension in the room at all. Her eyes are intense and fixed on her husband’s face. “The question is, what do we do about it?”

Finnick turns to me, leaning slightly closer to me. His voice is dark as he says “We don’t have to do anything about it at all, Katniss, if you don’t want to. It’s completely up to you.”

I’m surprised to find that I have a voice after all. “What do you mean by… “doing” anything?” I finally ask.

Annie cocks her head. “Going… further.”

My head is spinning at the possibilities, of just what the next level might be.

“I don’t want to pressure you in any way,” Finnick says apologetically. “I know that you’re the only one of us who hasn’t… been down this road before. And it’s quite an adjustment to make. If you don’t want to do this, that’s completely fine and up to you. We’ll all respect your decision.”

I realize that this is suddenly all up to **me**. Everyone else has already agreed that they want this, they want us all to be **together**.

I feel a sudden need for more space. Peeta’s hand on my knee, Finnick’s warmth so close to me on the other side… I get up, stumbling, and my knees are shaking. I go to the kitchen to get a large glass of cool water, whether it’s to buy time or to try to water down the alcohol in my blood, I’m not sure. When I return, four pairs of eyes are on me. Hopefully they’re not going to include Buttercup in this little arrangement as well.

“So what, uh…” My head is spinning, I don’t even know where to begin. “What exactly would this… _arrangement_ be? If I were to… Want to try it?” I can hear how insecure and scared I sound. Yet I’m still here. I haven’t just run off. I did come back.

“I don’t think there’s one single right or wrong way to do this,” Finnick answers. “It would be what we decide that it would be. But I think transparency would be key. No jealousy….” I gulp. That will be hard. **Would** be hard. If we are to do this. “It’s hard, I know. The main thing, I think, is that you have to be secure in your relationship. You need to know that Peeta loves you, and whatever you or he does with Annie or me, doesn’t diminish  that.”

“And don’t forget that if we do this, it would be special. I mean, we don’t… We don’t just suggest this to anyone,” Annie points out. “We don’t do this a lot. We really like you. Like really, **really** like you. We’re comfortable around you. We can laugh together, spend time together… It just seems natural to take that next step.”

Natural? **Natural**? Oh my God.

“Peeta told me that you’d been… thinking about this too, Katniss. Before.” Annie looks at me, her eyes cautious, and I’m not sure if I should feel betrayed by him sharing this very intimate detail with his ex-girlfriend, or if I’m glad that he did. “So we figured you’d be… open for it? For the idea, I mean. I know it’s a lot to take in.”

They’re making me feel like I’m an inexperienced teenager, and they are all adults, who have tried all kinds of kinky stuff. I’m the underdog here, and I don’t like it. I stand by the window, looking out at the falling snow. I’m shivering, despite the heat in the room.

“I need some fresh air,” I say. I quickly grab my jacket and fumble with my winter shoes.

“I’m going with you,” Peeta says. He looks worried. Annie and Finnick don’t follow me to the hallway, luckily. I just need some space, I need to think.

“No, I need some time alone.”

“I’m not letting you walk alone at night. You’re drunk and it’s cold,” he objects.

I have to admit that he does have a point, and so we walk outside into the night. It’s beautiful outside. The snow makes everything seem so pure and silent. It’s muffling all sounds, and there’s less traffic than usual because the first snowfall of the year apparently comes as a complete surprise.  Just like it does every year. I look up, stopping in the driveway, opening my mouth and catching snowflakes with my tongue. I used to do this all the time with Prim when we were children. It’s such a contrast to what we just discussed.

“Katniss?” Peeta says, as we walk. We’re not really going anywhere, we’re just walking around randomly. “I want you to know that… My only priority in this is you. Us. If you think that an… arrangement, or relationship, or whatever this is… or would be… would endanger our relationship, then I don’t want to do it. I need you to understand that I love you, and nothing will make me stop.”

“How could it **not** endanger our relationship?” I stop, and so does he. His eyes are dark, and his hands are in his pockets.

“Do you really mean that?” He asks.

I don’t answer. Instead I ask him: “How do you think it would be to see me with… someone else?”

He considers my question. “I have to be honest with you. I’m not saying it would be easy. At first. I mean, I’ve tried this with Annie, but she and I didn’t have what we have. And we were so young. But you… You’re the love of my life.” He pushes a stray lock of hair which has escaped from my braid behind my ear, a loving gesture I know so well. “If I’d found you in bed with someone else, it would kill me. But this isn’t **cheating** , Katniss. It’s something we’d all agree to do, something that would bring us all pleasure. Something we all think of as good. For all of us.” He smiles. “So yes, it will probably seem difficult at first. But judging by what we have kind of done already…” He’s thinking of the loud sex on two sides of the thin bedroom wall, I realize. “I think I’d be alright with it. In a way, I’ve almost shared you already.” He takes my hand. “What about you? How do you think it would be to see me with someone else?”

I inhale deeply. “Honestly?” He nods. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to deal with it. I mean, just the logistics of it all… Are you bi, Peeta? Why wouldn’t you tell me that?”

He shakes his head. “No, I’m straight. I don't think this is about sexual orientation.”

“I’m straight, too. Then why does thinking about being with Finnick **and** Annie turn me on? I mean, I’m just confused. If it had been only Finnick, I could have explained it to myself somehow, but…”

He shakes his head, smiling. He puts his index finger lightly on my lips, hushing me. “Don’t worry about it. In your fantasy - does she touch you? Or do you touch her?”

I blush, nodding. He shrugs. “Don’t try to put a label on yourself. I don’t believe in labels.”

I nod again. I guess he’s right. I have to ask him the question I fear the most. “What if it destroys us, Peeta? I couldn’t bear it. I need you. I love you.”

He’s very serious now. “I don’t think it will. I won’t let it. But if you’re really worried about that, then it’s probably not a good idea.”

I start walking again. Street after street, in the snow. We don’t speak. We walk together in comfortable silence. Peeta knows me too well to push me when I’m like this. I need my space.

I find that we must have been walking in circles, because we’re back on our street. The windows of our house are lit, and it seems warm and inviting. It’s our home. “I need to think, okay?” I tell him. “I have to… take my time. It’s a big decision. It’s a lot to take in.”

He nods. “I love you, Katniss.”

“I love you, too.”

He pulls me into his embrace, and we kiss as the snow falls around us.

When we go back inside, I go straight to bed without seeing Annie and Finnick. I have no idea what to say to them, frankly. I don’t know what I want.

But deep inside, I _do_ know what I want. I’m just not sure if by following my instincts, I’ll ruin our friendship – or what’s worse, our marriage. There’s no loud sex that night, and I find myself missing it. I snuggle close to Peeta’s warm body, harder and larger than mine and so familiar to me, and I wonder if he’s awake. I think he is. Then he kisses my hair, and I know he is. I lie awake for what must be hours before I finally fall asleep, no closer to a conclusion that I was before.

 

* * *

 

I think the unanswered question would be a massive elephant in the room the next day, but it’s not. Finnick and Annie are like they are every morning: Chatty, slightly disorganized, funny, and great to be around. The only indication I get that last night’s conversation wasn’t just a result of my imagination, is the look Annie gives me as she gives me a cup of coffee. Part apologizing, part asking.

Then we’re back to normal.

Peeta has the weekend off, and even though Annie and I have to grade some tests, we all actually have a really nice weekend together. We go for a walk in the woods. I show them my favorite places. There’s some snow, but not enough to be a hindrance, even though Finnick the swimmer complains of the cold. I used to take Peeta here back when we first got together, but we haven’t been here in years. I usually go to the forest alone. At first Peeta thought I was a hunter, but I had to explain to him that I don’t hunt with a rifle or a bow. I hunt with my camera. The thrill of taking the perfect photograph is hard to explain to someone who hasn’t tried it. There won’t be any perfect photographs today, though, at least not of animals, as I’m going here with three persons that combined make more noise than any elephant. But that’s okay. We have a great time. As we sit by the lake, ice cold now but not yet frozen, we share two cups of coffee and take in the pale December sun.

“It’s so beautiful here,” Peeta sighs. “We have to come back in summer, we can go swimming.” Finnick nods eagerly.

“Do you have any plans for Christmas?” Annie asks. I didn’t expect that.

I look at Peeta. “Do we?” We usually alternate visiting his parents or my family. Wherever we go, it usually ends in heartache and frustration. This year we are supposed to celebrate with my family, but Prim texted me last week saying she’s going to Bali, of all places, with her new boyfriend over the holidays. And my mother… I guess I should feel guilty about this, and I do a little, but celebrating Christmas with her is just not tempting. We don’t have a close relationship at all. Prim has served as the buffer between us for years. I don’t blame Prim for having had enough of it and bailing out to Bali. And Peeta’s family… I think back to last year, and I shudder. I’m not good enough for Peeta’s mother, and I never will be. His father is nice, and his brothers, too, but his mother **hates** me. I know I didn’t grow up in the “right” part of town, that I could’ve gotten a degree that would get me much more money and a higher social status than my present high school teaching job. I know that my father is dead and what’s worse, he used to be a coal miner. I also know that my mother is what Mrs. Mellark probably regards as an embarrassment. It still doesn’t give her the right to treat me like dirt, which is exactly what she does.

“Well, uh… We don’t really have any plans. Perhaps we could just stay at home this year? Start our own tradition? It’s not as if Christmas with either of our families is all that pleasant.” He throws a rock into the water. I can see from the way his body tenses that he’s angry. That’s what our families usually do to us.

“Sounds good to me,” I answer. Spending Christmas without our families would be a relief.

“Oh, because we were actually wondering about the same thing. We’ve been going to our parents’ for a few years, but last year we were just alone. Well, we and Buttercup, of course. And it was so nice and peaceful. No stress with in-laws and children and traditions we don’t care about and…” Annie’s voice trails off. She clears her voice. “Would it be okay if we stayed for Christmas as well? We completely understand if it isn’t, no problem. But if you would like to celebrate Christmas together, we’d love to join you.”

There is really no way to turn down that suggestion politely, but it doesn’t matter, because I realize that I really want them to. “Sure,” I smile, looking out over the lake. “Sounds great.”

And just like that, it’s settled. A small part of me thinks that it sounds almost like… family. That's something a family would do. But I quickly think about something else. That’s dangerous territory.

 

* * *

 

 It’s Thursday, which has become our cleaning day. We all help out, and get it done in less than an hour. Well, the three of us – Peeta is cooking while the rest of us are cleaning. By the time we’re done, Peeta has dinner ready. I fill our glasses with water, and there’s a comfortable silence around the table as Peeta passes the food around. We’re all hungry and tired after a long day.

“So I’ve been thinking about what we talked about last weekend,” I say casually. Although they must all understand there is nothing casual about this. Immediately, they all look at me. Finnick leans back in his chair. Annie quietly starts eating. “It hasn’t been easy. I’m afraid of ruining **everything**.” My courage is starting to falter and my voice has changed from casual to insecure and hesitant. I clear my throat before trusting myself to speak again. “But I’ve decided that I’m willing to…try.” I sit down at the table, accepting the plate from Peeta.

“Are you sure?” Finnick says, serious now.

“Yes,” I breathe. “But I don’t really know how.” I blush.

Annie smiles. “There’s really no rush. We can just take it step by step, at whatever pace feels comfortable for all of us. And not everyone has to be present all the time. If we agree that any… coupling, if I can use that word, is okay.”

I’m confused. “What exactly do you mean by that?”

“I mean that if you find that you want to sleep with for instance Finnick, and **only** Finnick, then that’s okay. No reason for jealousy for Peeta or me. And there’s no reason to ask for permission first. Okay?”

I’m startled. I’m not quite sure what I had expected. Maybe for this to instantly turn into a massive orgy as soon as I said okay? That would have scared me off instantly. I wouldn’t be able to deal with it, not right away. So what Annie has suggested sounds sensible. As sensible as whatever it is we’re doing right now could ever be.

“Okay,” I say, looking hesitantly over at Peeta.

“Okay,” he says.

“Would you really be okay with me making love to your wife when you’re not there, Peeta?” Finnick asks, and I can tell he’s pushing Peeta on purpose now. He’s even saying “making love,” not “fucking.” Because I’m sure that “fucking,” on some level, would have been easier to accept. “I’m certainly attracted to her, I can’t deny that.” Peeta doesn’t answer, but his eyes are dark. He’s stopped eating. Finnick continues,“We all  need to understand what we’re getting into here. It’s not the same as a random threesome. I can assure you it’s not. It takes a much greater level of trust to truly accept what Annie just said. Are we really ready for it?”

Peeta looks at me. He doesn’t say anything. Finally, he speaks. “Do you love me, Katniss?”

That’s an easy question to answer. Much easier than all the other questions that have been asked lately. “Yes.” There is no need to hesitate.

“I love you, too.” Then he looks at Finnick. “Yes. The answer is yes.”

“Good. Good.” Finnick says, his voice just a little bit darker than it was before. “Is it okay if I kiss her now, Peeta?” Peeta just nods, but there is a slight hesitation there. “Is it okay with you?” Finnick turns to me, and his sea green eyes make my blood rush lower, I can feel the steady pulse between my legs. I nod breathlessly. He gets up from his chair and walks towards me. I must look terrified, because as he bends down to kiss me, he murmurs “No reason to be scared, love.” And then his lips meet mine.

I haven’t kissed another man in nearly seven years. The only taste I can remember, is Peeta’s. I know everything about the way he kisses: The way he smells and the way he tastes. We’ve learned to move together. Now, with Finnick, I have to start all over again.

Finnick tastes differently. Of chocolate and wine and… salt? Yes, there’s a distinct yet subtle taste of saltwater there. I close my eyes, allowing myself to lose myself in his kiss. He’s clearly an experienced kisser, not that I’d expected anything else. He takes control as his tongue demands entrance to my mouth. I allow it. My hands sneak up to his neck and my fingertips playing with the soft hairs at the nape of his neck. My body molds into his as he pulls me up to stand with him. Pressed against me, I can feel how much taller and leaner he is than Peeta. He has a typical swimmer’s body. It feels different, but nice. I relax in his arms. I know that both my husband and his wife are watching, but it feels… okay. Not disturbing at all. I don’t know for how long we kiss, but finally he releases my lips. His mouth is just an inch from mine when he says, smiling “I think you liked that. Didn’t you, girl on fire?” He’s using Peeta's nickname for me. It seems oddly intimate, coming from another man. But again, it's okay.

I nod. There’s no denying it. He must see it in my flushed cheeks and my swollen lips, or feel it in the way my lower body is pressing into his. I did like it **a lot**. He’s still holding his arms around me, but his grip is looser than it was. Then he looks over at Peeta. His face is flushed, too, but I don’t know if it’s from arousal or anger.

“Okay, Peeta?”

He seems startled to be asked a question, like he was just drawn out of a fantasy.   He takes a deep, shaky breath, and finally whispers “Yes.”

Finnick releases me, and I sink down on my chair again. I look helplessly at Peeta, and then he leans in to kiss me. The kiss is nothing like Finnick’s. It’s shorter, sweeter, and not as demanding. “You taste differently,” he murmurs after.

“Do you like it?” The question leaves my lips before I have time to think about it.

He smiles, and his pupils are huge. “Yes.” I stare into his eyes, wondering if he sees in mine what I see in his. Arousal. Curiosity. Love. A hint of fear?

Finnick clears his throat to get our attention, and we look at him. “Then there’s the necessary but evil part of the discussion,” he says. “Namely safety...and birth control.”

I bite my lip. I haven’t had this discussion in years. Not since I first started dating Peeta. Finnick bringing this up makes it very real, all of a sudden. Even more so than the salty taste of Finnick’s lips. I take a deep breath. “I’m on the pill. And we haven’t been with anyone else in… seven years?” Peeta nods.

“I guess we should all get tested,” Peeta says. I wonder how I’m going to make that request of my doctor.  It’s not as if I’ve needed to be tested for STDs for years. But I realize I don’t have to tell her **why**. I'll say that I want to get a full workup. That’s all. If she thinks that means I’ve been cheating, or if I suspect that Peeta has, well then fuck her. She’s probably seen it all already, anyway.

“Yeah, definitely. I’m on the pill too, by the way,” Annie says. “So the birth control part should be covered. But I think we should clarify just what Finnick and I have done in the past. Because you may or may not think that we’ve been doing more than we actually have.” She looks at me, a small smile playing on her lips. I know she means me, that **I** think they’ve been around. Perhaps slept with too many people. Perhaps not being safe.

“We’ve been into swinging,” Finnick says. He speaks succinctly. He sounds as if he’s talking about the stock market. “The rules are very strict: Frequent testing and always using condoms. We’ve **never** had unprotected sex with anyone else. We wouldn’t be that irresponsible. We’ve also had some threesomes, most of the time with what I guess you could call a few semi-regular partners. But it’s never been like a _relationship_.”

I finally find the courage to say what’s been hanging in the air: “But you see this as a relationship? And you do want to have unprotected sex?”

“As in not using condoms, yes,” Annie says. “If you’re okay with it, of course. It does require a lot of trust from all of us. We need to stay exclusive, within the four of us. And if anyone were to..." She swallows hard. "... _sleep_ with someone else." She forces the words out. She sounds just like Peeta did when we had this conversation all those years ago, as though the very idea would destroy her. "We have to trust each other to disclose that right away. Protecting our health goes first, before hurt feelings.”

“We don’t do this with just anyone,” Finnick says, his voice low. “This is the first time we’ve ever suggested this to anyone. In fact, it’s the only time we’ve ever **wanted** this with anyone.”

I know that by “this”, he’s not really talking about unprotected sex. He’s talking about something beyond that.

Silence.

Finally Peeta says “Why don’t we all think about it? We can all get tested, and we can talk about it later. There’s no rush. And if anything _happens_ in the meantime, we use condoms. Okay?”

Everyone nods.

 

 

* * *

 

Had I really expected a wild and kinky foursome as soon as I said yes? I wonder, as we’re all sitting in front of the TV on Friday.

Because there is nothing kinky about this. It’s a relief and it's frustrating at the same time. Annie is playing with Buttercup. She’s throwing a ball made of rolled up paper, and Buttercup actually runs over and brings it back to her, like a dog. It would be cute if I didn’t hate him so much. Finnick and Peeta are watching TV. I’m lying on the couch trying to read a book, but watching the explosions on TV is of course far more interesting. The only change from before, really, is that this time, I’m lying with my head in Finnick’s lap, my feet in Peeta’s. I was hesitant to do it at first, I was afraid I was overstepping some kind of boundary, but Finnick just smiled at me, and Annie gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “You’re so adorable, Katniss,” she whispered, and I blushed. I looked over at Peeta, who was watching us intently, and he just lifted an eyebrow. So I did. I laid my head in another man’s lap, and it felt comfortable. Another man’s hand plays with my braid. While the man I usually lie next to is tickling my feet when he feels I pay too much attention to the book, and not enough on the explosions and their wild scientific theories, which I would be able to shoot down in an instant had I bothered to.

So, did I expect something else? I have to admit to myself that yes, I did. Why does this seem normal? I wonder. I realize we haven’t really **done** anything yet. And I’m not stupid. I do realize that Annie and Finnick, who have been down this road before although I don’t know how much they have done with how many other couples or persons, are taking it slow for our sake. It’s really mainly for my sake, I realize. They’re leaving the initiative pretty much up to me, and I’m grateful.

It’s not until later that night, when we’re about to go to bed, that Annie suggests “Why don’t we switch tonight?” She’s looking at me, and it’s clear who she’s checking with. Probably because she already knows the guys will say yes. “You take Finnick. I'll take Peeta,” she clarifies, a small smile playing on her lips.

I’m paralyzed, unable to move or speak.

“Hey, Katniss… I’m not going to jump you. I just want to sleep with you. As in sleeping **next** **to** **you** , not having sex with you. We’re not ready for that,” Finnick says, and I nod slowly. Why is this all making me feel like so young? His fingers are intertwined with mine. Annie and Peeta are standing next to each other, but they are not touching.

And then it hits me, and I wonder why it didn’t sooner. They’ve done this before. They used to be together. How do I feel about that? Am I just sending my husband right back into his ex-girlfriend’s arms? I lick my dry lips, trying to figure out what to say.

That’s the moment that I decide I’ve done enough thinking. I think too much. I need to stop it, and just allow myself to follow my emotions for once. I give Peeta a hug and a quick kiss on the mouth, murmuring “goodnight” in his ear, and then I do the same with Annie.

It’s really much easier without thinking and overanalyzing anything. If I hadn’t decided to stop thinking, I know I’d obsess over what to wear to bed. Sexy lingerie? Something see-through? Or perhaps going in the opposite direction with flannel pajamas, making me as uninteresting sexually as possible? But instead of thinking, I just put on what I always do, a pair of Peeta's old boxer shorts and a tank top with fabric so soft after being worn, washed and loved for years. Finnick apparently sleeps in his boxers as well, like Peeta.

I really wonder if Annie and Peeta are going to have sex tonight, and what it would feel like to listen to it. Would it turn me on? Or would I freak out and start crying?

Fortunately, it doesn’t seem like they will. I hear them talking and laughing in there, and some muffled sounds that I think mean they are kissing, some soft moans – but nothing beyond that. I can’t help but lie there and listen to them. As I do, Finnick unbraids my hair, then runs his fingers through it. It falls around my shoulders, and he looks at me admiringly. “You’re so beautiful, Katniss,” he says. “Inside and out.” I blush, like a schoolgirl. Accepting his kiss when he leans in seems so easy and natural. I know what he tastes like now. And although my body knows very well that this is not Peeta, I still recognize this as familiar and right. While we kiss, I lean back in the bed, and he follows me down, our lips never separating. We kiss and touch innocently, for a long time. He is aroused; as he brushes against me a few times I can clearly feel his erection against my thigh. “You’re quite an enigma, Katniss,” he says as he kisses me.

“What do you mean?” I ask him. It’s quiet on the other side of the wall now, I guess Annie and Peeta have gone to sleep.

“You’re a strange combination of sexiness and an almost unbelievable innocence. I’m just not used to it, I guess.”

I blush. I know I’m not like the others, and I’m not sure if that’s something I should have to defend or not.

“Can I ask you a question? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” I nod. “How many men have you been with?”

I don’t answer right away. I’m glad Peeta hasn’t told him, that he respects that this is my information to choose to share. I have nothing to be ashamed of. “Two.”

Finnick doesn’t seem surprised. “Who was the first one?”

“Gale. My high school sweetheart. We were together until my junior year in college before we broke up. I was single for a few years… And then I met Peeta.”

His fingertips trace my lips. “Then obviously sex is something you value highly. You don’t give yourself to just anyone.” I nod, relieved that he understands. “Thank you,” he says, kissing me lightly. “I think I speak for Annie as well when I say that we feel honored.”

Then he snuggles in behind me, his knees fitting just perfectly behind my knees, and his arm drapes protectively around my waist. It's how Peeta prefers to sleep too. “Good night, Katniss,” he says. A few minutes later, I feel his arm twitch, then a leg, knowing it means he’s fallen asleep. I quickly follow him.

 

 

* * *

 

Over the next few days, a small pile of papers builds up on the kitchen table. My test results come in first. Then Annie’s. Finally Finnick's and Peeta’s. Their results bear the same watermark and I try to imagine what it was like for them to go to the clinic together. Was it awkward, getting tested as a precursor for sleeping with each other's wives? Or did they grab a beer afterwards?

We don’t discuss the results, but we know we all read them. We’re clean.

This is like the beginning of any other relationship, I realize. This slow exploration of intimacy, of borders, of each other. In a way, it’s almost like when I first got together with Gale. Shy looks, hesitant touches, stolen moments of intimacy.  A curious mix of hesitation and passion. Only now, the exploration is going in several directions, between several people.

The first time I kiss Annie, **really** kiss Annie, it comes as a complete surprise to me. We’re making breakfast, and suddenly she turns around and gently brushes her lips against mine. I’ve never kissed a girl before, and again I’m surprised by the different taste. She tastes sweet. And she’s soft, all of her.  Soft curves against mine, and no stubble. But other than that, and the fact that she’s my height, it’s not very different than kissing Finnick... Or even Peeta. “I just had to try.” She smiles as our lips separate, then she continues making breakfast as if nothing happened. I’m flushed, but again I’m surprised by how strangely normal it all feels.

“I’m glad you did,” I say. “You taste… sweet.”

 

* * *

 

It’s Saturday, and we separate for a few hours. I'm grateful to spend quality time with my husband. Peeta and I go to a museum. Annie and Finnick go swimming. Afterwards, it’s another quiet night at home with a few bottles of red wine and TV. Peeta, to my surprise, seems to be mainly interested in me. A small part of me wonders why, when he's had the chance to go all the way with Annie, but hasn't. They've kissed and touched, Peeta's told me, but nothing more. I suspected as much. We’re lying on the couch, I’m more or less lying on top of him, and we’re making out like a pair of horny teenagers. I’d be embarrassed to be doing this in front of other people if I wasn’t so turned on. One of his hands has ventured underneath my shirt, and I can feel through his jeans just how aroused he is. Instinctively, I grind my hip against his. And through it all, our feet are lying in Finnick’s lap. He’s watching us with a small smile on his lips, interested, but not staring in a way that feels uncomfortable.

When Peeta opens the fly of my jeans and his fingers venture inside my panties, and I gasp at both the sensation and the embarrassment I feel. Annie laughs “This is the point where I usually say that people should get a room.” I blush, knowing she’s right, and she continues: “Can we watch?”

We don’t answer. I realize Peeta is waiting for me to decide, which tells me he’s okay with it if I am. Two fingertips brush my clit, and I can’t stifle the moan. Then a thick finger plunges into me, and I buck against him again. “Yes,” I whimper. “Please don’t stop.”

Peeta laughs a dark laughter against my neck as he fucks me slowly with his fingers. I’m already dripping, and my underwear is soaked. Peeta's thumb circles over my clit and I moan loudly. As his fingers move in and against me, my back arches and I drop my head back. I'm breathing heavy, feeling pressure build inside of me. Peeta turns to Annie. “She's getting close," he tells her. "I have to stop if we’re going to take this to the bedroom.” **We**. I whimper again as he abruptly removes his hand from the inside of my panties and scoops me up in his arms, carrying me to our bedroom. He doesn't wait to see if Annie and Finnick have decided to join us.

There’s really no time for being embarrassed or shy. Peeta practically rips my clothes off, and I find myself tearing at his as well. I’m so turned on it almost hurts. We haven’t had sex in a couple of days, and out of the corner of my eye, I can see Finnick and Annie. They are standing by the doorway, watching us. His hand is around her waist, but they’re not touching in any sexual way, they are just _watching_.

And I like it.

Peeta practically throws me onto the bed when I’m finally naked, and he pins me underneath him with his hands around my wrists. He’s panting, and his erection throbs between us. His eyes lock with mine, and I see my own passion reflected in his. “You’re so fucking sexy, Katniss,” he groans. I can see the admiration in his eyes, and I feel another surge of wetness between my legs. I shift my hips, opening my legs to accept him, and he doesn’t hesitate. His cock plunges into me.

It’s clear from the onset that this won’t be a long, drawn-out, sweet session of love-making. This will be hot and hard and fast, and it suits me just fine. Peeta bites my neck while pounding into me. He stops momentarily to move my legs, putting them over his shoulders. I can’t move at all in this position, but to compensate, he reaches impossibly deep. Where I was panting and moaning before, I’m now practically screaming.

I distantly notice that Finnick is kissing Annie’s neck, perhaps mirroring the way Peeta just bit me. I don’t know why, but I want them to be closer, not just standing by the door. I motion for them with my hand, and they must understand, because they come to lean down by the bed. I can clearly see that Finnick is hard, and Annie seems flushed. Her lips are open, forming a small “o”, but she doesn’t say anything. Peeta sees them as well, of course, and it seems to cause him to increase his speed. It feels amazing, but there’s still something missing. He’s actually too deep, I won’t come like this. I start to move under him, pushing him away. Even in the state he’s in, he instantly picks up my signals. Peeta’s always been great this way, he knows what I want nearly before I know it myself. He pulls out, and I quickly turn over. No words are necessary. My hair is everywhere, but I look over my shoulder, catching Peeta's eye, and then he descends on me again. And there, he gives me the pressure I need. Again, there’s not much I can do to help, but Peeta seems perfectly happy to do all the work himself, to fuck me like this. I fall down on my elbows, unable to keep myself up. This changes the angle, and I sneak a hand between my legs to stimulate myself, knowing I’ll need just a little bit of pressure to push myself over the edge. Behind me, I can hear and feel that Peeta is close.

Annie knows what I’m about to do. I feel Peeta’s movements and hear the sound of his lips meeting hers. I look over my shoulder and see that he’s kissing Annie, while fucking me. Peeta’s hands stay on my hips and he still thrusts into me. Annie’s hands thread through his hair as they kiss deeply. Finnick watches, slowly stroking himself over his pants.

Annie releases Peeta’s mouth with a smile. She turns to me, I realize I’ve been staring at them. “Can I?” She asks, and I moan “yes,” not really sure if it’s the answer to her question or a reaction to Peeta’s pounding, but it doesn’t matter. Her fingers touch me, lightly, and my body goes rigid. My fists close around the pillow, which I’m abusing severely right now, and a scream is ripped from my throat. The angle is different from what it would have been if I or Peeta had been doing this, and it's perfect. She’s a woman. Of course she knows exactly what to do. She draws circles around my clit, faster and faster, and then I come, hard. I do pride myself on being able to come without a sound, but I don’t think I could’ve come silently now even if I’d had a gun to my head. The scream is partly muffled by the pillow, but still it’s loud. I don’t care. The only things in my world right now are my screams, Finnick’s green eyes staring at me, Annie’s small fingers moving against me, and Peeta’s cock emptying inside me.

I collapse on the bed, and so does Peeta, lying on top of me. He’s panting, his face buried in my hair. I turn my head to face him. It’s hard to see him through the wild maze of my hair, but I do. I can barely breathe, I just came so hard. I’m speechless, but no words are necessary. Peeta rolls off me, and holds me close. To my surprise, Finnick pulls the sheet up over us, tucking us in. Then he quickly undresses, leaving his underwear on, and so does Annie. They slip in under the duvet, Annie next to Peeta, Finnick next to me. Our bed is big. It wasn’t made for four, but we all fit in, just barely. I find myself squeezed between two men, one naked and one nearly naked. It feels warm and safe. My body is sated and heavy, and I drift off to sleep.

 

 

* * *

 

When I wake the next morning, it’s to the odd sensation of having **two** morning erections pressed into me. That’s definitely new. I realize I must be the first to wake up. Peeta snores quietly. I’m still facing him, in the same position in which we fell asleep last night. I’m cocooned in heat, and both Peeta’s and Finnick’s bare skin against mine feel burning hot. I look down, and see that Finnick has stretched out a hand over Peeta and me and so has Annie. In their sleep, their fingers are intertwined, keeping in contact with each other even when there are two people lying in between them.

It’s… sweet.

I really, really need to go to the bathroom, but I have no idea how to leave the bed without waking everyone up. I also feel sticky between my legs from Peeta’s cum. It’s not unpleasant, but I do need to get cleaned up. I contemplate my options when Finnick stretches his body behind me, and I realize that he must have woken up. “Finnick?” I whisper.

“Uhmmmm,” he murmurs into my hair.

“I need to go to the bathroom.”

He chuckles. “Good morning to you too, girl on fire,” he says, and I know from his voice that there’s a smile on his lips. I turn around, careful not to wake Peeta, and look straight into his eyes. It’s almost too much - they are too intense, too sensual. His eyes are so intensely green in the early morning light, a color which really shouldn't exist, that they almost don’t look real. “Thank you for last night,” he whispers, kissing me lightly on the lips. He gets up, allowing me to roll away from Peeta and Annie. I feel self-conscious as I stand there, naked in the pale morning light. My hair is mussed from sleep and sex, my face is without make-up and I’m sticky and wet between my thighs, but he doesn’t seem to mind at all. I smile softly at him before making my way to the bathroom. When I return, bladder empty and all cleaned up, Finnick allows me to slip back into bed again between him and Peeta without a word. Annie has woken up as well, the only person who’s still sleeping is Peeta. I look at him – he looks so young when he’s sleeping. So beautiful.

It looks like Finnick and Annie are thinking along the same lines, although I can’t be sure. I just sigh contentedly. 

“I guess I hadn’t expected it to be this calm? This comfortable.” I whisper, and Annie’s eyes peer at me over Peeta’s shoulder.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” She says with a smile. “It’s not as if this is some kind of porn movie.”

I actually chuckle, although my cheeks are on fire. “I guess you’re right.” My fingers play absentmindedly with the blond curls on Peeta’s chest. I notice that his respiratory rate increases subtly, and when I lift my head, I see that he’s awake. “Good morning, Peeta,” I say. He looks drowsy, but not surprised to be here, with us. With **us**.

“Good morning.” He shifts in bed to lie on his back, and ends up with one woman on each shoulder. My dark brown curls mingle with Annie’s lighter brown and straighter hair over Peeta’s chest.

 

 

* * *

 

**Mid-December**

December is a busy month. There are lots of tests to grade for Annie and me. Peeta’s working overtime at the bakery nearly every day. The only one having a relatively easy time at work is Finnick. He jokes that January will be harder, when people come back to the swimming pool after Christmas, desperate to shed the pounds they gained over the holidays.

It’s quickly apparent that with four people in some sort of strange and as of yet not clearly defined relationship, we need some space from time to time. We can’t all be together – literally – all of the time. Peeta still takes me out on date night, just the two of us. Tonight, it's dinner and a movie, just like old times. I enjoy the time alone with him immensely. Similarly, Annie and I begin to spend alone time too.  We catch a movie, or we go shopping – we’ve done it before, when we were just friends and colleagues, but it’s different now. We buy Christmas presents for Peeta and Finnick together. “To Peeta from Katniss and Annie.” “To Finnick from Annie and Katniss.” It feels strange, but kind of nice as well. A nice kind of strange.

Our sleeping arrangements vary. Some nights I sleep with Peeta, and other nights I share a bed with Finnick, or Annie... or both. I think I just need to get used to falling asleep with and waking up with them. Some nights we all sleep in the same bed, but none of the beds are really big enough for us all to sleep comfortably, at least not several nights in a row. It’s hard to find the space to move over or roll around without waking up at least two people, and I realize that if this is going to be a permanent arrangement – something I don’t want to bring up, not even just inside my own head – we’ll have to invest in a bigger bed. But for now, it will have to do.

One night, I’m in Finnick’s bed. I’ve stopped thinking about the room as the guest room, it’s now Annie and Finnick’s room. Annie fell asleep in our bed, and Peeta is still collapsed on the sofa in the living room, exhausted after working 16 hours straight at the bakery. December is a tough month for bakers.

Tonight, for the first time, Finnick’s hands venture inside of my panties. His kiss is deeper, more passionate. My body seems to fit perfectly to his, and I roll us over so that I’m straddling him. His hands slide across my waistband and over my buttocks, squeezing carefully. I can’t keep myself from bucking reflexively against his erection. His pupils are so dilated that his eyes are practically black. Without a word, I sit up, removing my tank top. I look down at him, a bit hesitant yet determined. He’s seen me naked before, of course, but never like this.

Something is different tonight.

Taking this step doesn’t feel as daunting as I’d thought it would. We’ve already slept together in this bed and in the other bed many times, alone or together, with one or both of our spouses. I’ve felt his erection against me before. The only difference is that tonight, I don’t want there to be any layers of thin cotton separating us anymore. I touch his cock curiously, and find that he’s slightly longer than Peeta, but that Peeta is thicker. The angle of his erection is also a bit different. I touch him lightly at first, exploring, and he holds his breath. Then I close my fingers around him, applying more pressure, and he groans in my ear. He slips the panties off my hips, and for the first time, we’re completely naked together, alone. He gently removes my hands from his cock, mumbling something about me needing to stop that unless I want him to embarrass himself. Somehow while we were undressing each other, we changed positions, and I’m lying underneath him now. He kisses me, deeply, grinding his hips against me, and I lift my thighs to grip him and allow him access. He lifts himself up on his elbows as he breaks our kiss, the tips of our noses just touching. To my surprise, he switches on the lamp on the bed stand. I blink against the sudden light.

“I need to see what I’m doing,” he explains. “Besides, I want to see you.” He moves down in the bed, and I nod breathlessly, understanding what he’s planning to do. He spreads my legs further, and I blush as he looks at me, scrutinizing me. It’s like he’s memorizing every detail of what I look like. I can’t read his face, and stupidly, I worry about somehow not being good enough for him. Then he exhales. “You’re beautiful, Katniss,” he says, and I can’t help but smile at him, intensely relieved. Then two fingers touch me, running from above my clit, brushing just over it causing me to gasp, then down to my opening to find that I’m already dripping wet. He slips his fingertips inside of me to gather up my juices, then he rubs them along my slit. When his mouth descends on me, I stop thinking. I’m reduced to skin, reflexes, heat, wetness, and gasps, all at his mercy. His tongue plunges into me, and I scream. I can feel his chuckle rather than hear it, and he stops what he’s doing just long enough to say “wow.”

“Don’t stop,” I moan. My fingers are in his hair, pushing him back down. He obeys, and it's only moments before I’m arching underneath him. I’m already so close. His fingers are pumping into me, finding just the right spot, and his tongue on my clit unravels me more quickly than I’d thought I would. There is nothing quiet about the way I come, moaning his name as I do. And there is no shame that the name on my tongue isn’t Peeta’s. That’s a relief, too.

When it’s over, he moves up to lie face to face with me, his chin covered in my juices. He smells like me, musky and warm, and I kiss him, licking him clean. Then, quickly, I straddle him again. His cock is throbbing between my legs, and with just a little bit of guidance from his hand, he slides into me, filling me. It’s been so long since anyone but Peeta was inside me, and that involves a special thrill as well. But I’m quickly lost in the moment, not thinking about the fact that this is new, that this is someone else. That Peeta’s sleeping on the couch. I set the pace, Finnick’s hands are on my hips but he doesn’t really guide me. I don’t try to reach another peak myself, because I want to give this to him. I want to watch him come. Finnick moves one hand from my hip to my clit, and I arch my back, knowing that despite myself another orgasm isn't far off. I gently remove his hand, increasing my speed.

Watching his face as he comes is amazing. It contorts as he tries to keep his eyes open to look at me. Our eyes are locked until he’s at the very brink, and then he squeezes them shut. His back arches. He’s thrashing under me, his hips raise up to meet mine as he comes with a loud groan. I feel him pulse inside me, and his cum drips out from where we are joined. He lies quietly for a few seconds. His eyes are closed, and I watch as he tries to gain control over his breathing. Finally he opens his eyes, and never have I seen them be more intensely emerald green than they are now. I thought they couldn’t possibly be more green than the morning when all four of us woke up in bed together for the first time, but I was wrong. His skin is flushed, his features relaxed. I lean forward to kiss him, and it’s sweet and loving.

I don’t know what makes me turn around, but I do. I’m somehow not surprised to see Peeta standing there in the doorway. I don’t know for how long he’s been watching us. His pupils are so huge his eyes are all black, and his cock is clearly straining against his jeans. Finnick sees him, too, and I honestly don’t know what goes on between us in the long seconds that we all simply look at each other. Then Peeta smiles and closes the bedroom door behind him. We hear his footsteps as he enters the other bedroom. I turn back to Finnick, wondering what to do next. Then I realize what I have to do. I have to stop thinking. I have to stop thinking about this. I think too much. What is the natural, logical thing to do?

I bend down and kiss him again. A sweet, long, yet fiery kiss that silently thanks him for being there for me. After we separate, I move off him feeling his still half-erect cock slip out of me. I lie down next to him, my head on his shoulder, his arms around me. He kisses the top of my head, and it feels so wonderfully sweet and protective at the same time that it brings tears to my eyes. 

I half expect to hear Peeta and Annie through the wall. I saw how aroused he was.  But I don’t hear a sound tonight. Annie was asleep, and Peeta is too much of a gentleman to wake her, I guess. I don’t know if I’m relieved or disappointed, but my exhausted, sated body and my hazy post-orgasmic brain don’t allow me to think too much about it. I fall asleep on Finnick’s shoulder in minutes.

 

* * *

  

The next morning, though, as Finnick and I make breakfast, there’s no mistaking what’s going on in the other bedroom. Finnick lifts an eyebrow at a series of particularly loud moans from Annie, but doesn’t comment on it otherwise. I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything. “Are you okay?” He asks as he tries to figure out how the toaster settings. He’s not what you would call a whiz in the kitchen.

I look at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Are you okay with that?” He gestures towards the hallway leading to the bedrooms. I hear Peeta grunting behind the door, he must be close. I know his sounds. “They used to be a couple. They’re having sex right now. Does that bother you?”

I consider his question. Does it? They’ve done this before. They know each other’s bodies. They don’t need time to learn about each other, the way Finnick and I did. Does that threaten me in any way, though?

No, it doesn’t.

“No,” I answer.

“And are you okay with what happened last night?”

“Why would you think that I’m not?” I’m a bit offended now.

“You just seem tense. That’s all.”

I take a deep breath. Then my face breaks into a big smile. “Yes. Yes, I’m okay with it.” Before I know it, he’s taking me up against the fridge. Yep, I’m definitely okay with it.

We barely have time to finish before Annie and Peeta join us in the kitchen. They are both clearly post-coital, but I guess there is no way of hiding that Finnick and I are as well. My hair is a mess, and I smell his cum on me, soaking the panties I just put on again.

Finnick never did figure out how to work the toaster. Peeta raises an eyebrow at me as he bites into a piece of burnt toast. Finnick mumbles something about not even being able to boil eggs, and Annie teases him about it. How can we be this comfortable with each other? Her husband just fucked me up against the fridge, which may be more to blame for the blackened meal than Finnick’s inability to use the appliances. My husband just fucked another woman in our bed. And yet here we all are, having breakfast together.

But it’s nice. I remind myself to stop analyzing it, stop trying to figure out what all this **means** , and instead try to remember Peeta’s eyes as he saw me riding Finnick. To remember our lazy afternoons on the couch. Or Annie’s curves pressing against mine. Finnick’s twinkling eyes and eagerness to make me come. I have to stay focused on what we are **now** , in this very moment – just four people in the kitchen on a Saturday morning, laughing together over a meal.

Never in my life has December been like this. A mix of the usual - snow, shopping for Christmas presents, eating too much, being busy at work - and the new things. The raging hormones. The stolen looks. Having sex with someone, while someone else is watching. Skin touching skin touching skin. Kissing a woman. Listening to my husband having sex with another woman through the wall. And feeling okay with it? Yes, actually feeling okay with it. Some nights I’m so tired I just collapse in bed, not caring what the others think or might be doing. Other nights, my entire body seems to vibrate. I’m just an instrument for Finnick, Peeta or Annie to play on, making my body sing – or I’m playing on theirs.

Annie is perhaps the most delicate situation I have to handle. We are colleagues, for one thing. With Finnick, I don’t have to take our sexual relationship outside the four walls of this house. With Peeta, well, we are already married, so no one questions it at all. But with Annie, it's different. We see each other every day at work. Our colleagues know that she’s living in our house, but they don’t have any idea of our arrangement. On the way to work, the first Monday after we both officially had sex with each other’s husbands, I say to her “No one at work can know.” I look at her. She’s driving, and when she’s stopped at a red light, she looks over at me, raising an eyebrow.

“What do you think would happen?”

Oh, God. We work at a high school, for heaven’s sake. We could potentially lose our jobs. I can only imagine the uproar among the parents, if they’d known that two of their teachers are involved in a poly-relationship. I suppose most parents wouldn’t want their teenagers to know that what we are doing is even **possible** , let alone that their children’s **teachers** , two women who they probably regard as normal, intelligent people, are involved in a polyandrous relationship. I don’t even really know myself what we are doing at the moment. Only that I don’t want it to stop.

When I don’t answer, mainly because I’m paralyzed by fear, she just shrugs. The light turns green and she continues driving. “Don’t worry. No one will know. It’s no one’s business but ours.”

And it isn't. At work, we’re just colleagues, although we are certainly closer now than we were, but we can explain that by our living together. We have lunch together every day, but unlike when we share meals at home, there are no stolen kisses or caresses at school - though I am definitely tempted at times.

The other difficult thing about Annie, is that I’m not generally attracted to women, and she is unquestionably female. Until a few months ago, I’d considered myself 100% straight. The fact that Annie featured in my secret foursome fantasy was really something I explained to myself by thinking it was because of Finnick. He was the one I wanted, and she was just _there_. Because she is married to him. But I have to admit to myself now that it’s more than that, and that I’m attracted to Annie just because she is **Annie** , too. I have to reassess everything I thought I knew about myself, about my sexuality, and how I have always defined myself. I have never questioned my sexual orientation, and I don’t now, either. There’s just… more added now. More **people**. And one of them happens to be a woman. I haven’t really gone far beyond kissing her. We have touched each other in bed while one of us is with Finnick or Peeta, but that’s it. We haven’t had sex, and Annie has never brought it up. Does she want to? I don’t know. She initiates the kissing just as often as I do. I’ve seen the way she looks at me, especially while I’m fucking Finnick, and she definitely seems interested. But she doesn’t bring it up, and neither do I. Do I want to? Yes. But I don’t know what that makes me. Does it make me bisexual? I don’t know. I try to do what Peeta said earlier – to not care about the labels. I don’t label myself, or any of the others. I’m already in what is definitely a relationship with **three** other people. Sorting out my feelings for three people, three people who actually come as a package, a unit, is confusing. The label I have put on myself since I was in early puberty, the easy and comfortable “straight” label, has been ripped off.

Now I don’t have one. I’m Katniss with no label.

And that’s okay. Liberating, even.

 

* * *

 

It’s Friday night, the week before Christmas, when Annie and I go the movies together. It’s not a date, not officially, but in a way it is. On the outside, we’re two friends going out. There is no touching, no making out in the back row like in my fantasies. It’s not at all like any of the movie dates I’ve been on with Peeta, or even with Gale in the past. We buy popcorn, and she throws some in my hair. We sink down in the chairs and giggle, and I find myself hoping that none of our students are here.

I can’t concentrate on the movie at all. In fact, I can’t even remember the name of it. I look at the screen, or in the direction of the screen anyway, but all I can see are motions and colors on the screen. All of my attention is directed towards the woman sitting to my right. I can just about see her out of the corner of my eye. Her brown hair, looking black in the darkness, and her slight form. I can **feel** her, though. Her knee is, as if coincidentally, touching mine. It feels like the skin is burning through my jeans. But most of all, I can feel her presence, **all** of her, it’s almost physical. My hand is lying on my right thigh, it would be so easy for her to take it in the darkness, but she doesn’t. At one point I turn my head to look at her. She sees my movement and turns, too. I can see the whites of her eyes in the darkness, and the slight smile on her lips. But still, she doesn’t take my hand, and I don’t reach for hers. A moment later, she directs her attention back towards the screen again.

After the movie is finished, we walk towards the car. Annie is chatting about the movie, and I try to say as little as possible. My heart is pounding in my chest. I start the engine and turn the heater on max. The windows have started freezing up already, in the three hours that we have been parked here. I curse when I realize the ice scraper is nowhere to be found, and I have to scrape off the ice with my credit card. When I see enough to drive safely, I get into the car again.

When I turn right instead of left in an intersection, Annie seems confused. “Where are we going?” she asks. We’re going in the opposite direction of our house.

“There’s something that I need to do,” I mutter, and she doesn’t question it. I drive in silence for about ten minutes. Soon, we reach our destination. I’ve been here before – many years ago. I stop at a secluded spot with an amazing view of the bay. This is, in fact, the very place where I lost my virginity to Gale, happily, at the age of 17 in the back of his car. It seems somehow fitting to be here now, with Annie. I stop the engine.

“Here?” she asks. “What is it that you need to do?”

I open my mouth to respond, and it turns out my answer is a kiss. I lean in towards her, capturing her mouth with mine. I’m not sure if she’s surprised or not, but I don’t care. My hands move up, one behind her head, the other around her back, as I take control. We’ve kissed before, but this is different. It’s harder, darker, needier. Raw. When we part, we are both panting. Breathlessly, Annie reaches out and unbraids my hair. My dark hair is wavy from being braided all day, and when it’s released, it spills over my shoulder and back. “You’re so beautiful,” Annie whispers, and I’m surprised by how much her compliment means to me.

“You too,” I whisper back. And she is. In the moonlight her eyes are almost black, and her skin is luminous. It’s like she’s glowing. It’s started snowing outside – perfect Christmas snow. It’s still warm inside the car, but I know it will start to get colder soon, now that the engine is no longer running. I don’t care. I unzip her jacket, and throw it away from us. She does the same with mine. It’s all a confusing, hurried mess of undressing each other in the cramped space of the car. I giggle when my bra ends up on the rearview mirror. Annie curses under her breath when my elbow accidentally bumps into her ribs, hard enough to hurt, and I murmur an apology while sucking on her neck.

The logistics of this are somewhat different from being with Gale, and I’m starting to remember why I haven’t had sex in a car since I was a teenager. The steering wheel is in the way, and even though Annie’s tried to push the seat back, it’s still cramped. “The back seat,” she groans, and that’s where we end up.

I’m pretty sure Annie has been with women before, but I won’t allow myself to be embarrassed because I haven’t, or because I don’t quite know what to do.

But I do know, don’t I? I’ve been with Peeta. And Gale. And Finnick. I know what they do to me, what I like. I know exactly how to get myself off too, with only my hand. There is no mystery to this, like Gale’s body was to me at first. This is just a female body like my own.

I know exactly how to touch it.

Without thinking, I push her back, gently spreading her legs. One of Annie’s hands is on her right breast, kneading it. In the semi-darkness I can’t see every detail of her body as her thighs are spread before me, but I can see enough. In fact, the shadows make it even more exciting. I can smell her. I can smell her arousal, as well as mine, but hers is slightly different, somewhat foreign to me. I’ve seen her naked before, of course, but never like this. She’s done some maintenance down there, like me, but she hasn’t removed everything, and I can clearly see the darker shade of her curls. Annie has touched me before, but I haven’t touched her. Curious, I touch her lightly with my fingertips, following the length of her slit. Her back arches under me, and a guttural groan is torn from her throat. I’ve heard it before through the wall, and I also watched her with Finnick and Peeta. But this is the first time that **I** am the reason why she’s uttering this sound, and I feel a surge of power as I hear it. I can’t help myself. I can’t stop myself from smiling. Annie sees it. She’s somehow managed to keep her eyes open. She’s looking at me, and she smiles back. “Please…” she begs, and whatever she planned to say disappears in another long moan as my index finger finds her clit, flicking it carefully, yet determined.

Even though our bodies are anatomically the same, we don’t like to be touched in exactly the same way. The angle is different from when I’ve touched myself, and it takes some getting used to. I let her sounds be my roadmap, and help me discover how she likes to be touched. I had no idea it could be this exciting; it’s new, yet not new. I need to taste her. I wonder, as my head dips, if she will taste sweet, like her mouth.

She doesn’t. The taste is strong, musky, heady. The hint of the sweetness that is Annie is still there, but this is something much more powerful. Her hands find my hair, forcing me to stay where I am. She’s bucking almost desperately underneath me now, moaning my name, over and over. “Katniss… Katniss… Oh God, Katniss…” She’s going to come soon. I’d know even if I hadn’t felt her walls starting to contract around my two fingers, because I’ve heard her on the brink before.

I part from her only long enough to say “Come for me, Annie,” before my tongue touches her clit again, flicking very lightly over it a few times. And then she does, with a strangled cry. I sit up, which is difficult in the back seat of my small car, and I can’t tear my eyes off her. One hand is still resting on the inside of her thigh, which is quivering.  She’s lying with her eyes closed, panting, struggling to control her breath. Finally she opens her eyes, looking at me. She seems slightly dazed, her eyes are hazy, and I feel a surge of pride that I did that to her.

Then, in a swift, determined movement, Annie pushes me onto my back. She doesn’t waste one second before her mouth is on me, finding me dripping wet already. She hums appreciatively at this discovery, and within seconds she has me moaning her name, and my back arched. Our roles are reversed now. It’s almost like an assault, but a very pleasurable one. It’s almost too intense, too good, too much, so much it almost hurts. It’s not, however, very different from when a man has done this to me. A part of me thought perhaps it would be, but I suppose at the end of the day, we are all just the same skin, flesh, tongue and love. I also recognize some of Finnick’s distinct moves – she must have picked them up from him. Or maybe she taught him what she likes. Finnick **really** does know what he’s doing with his tongue, and so, apparently, does his wife. My head hits the door of the car, so hard it hurts, but I’m beyond caring. My world contracts, all that exists in it are Annie’s tongue lapping at me, her fingers curled up just right inside me, my own panting breath and husky pleadings, although I don’t know why I keep saying “please." I don’t want her to stop, but at the same time it’s almost too much.

The end comes swiftly, with a power that literally takes my breath away. I feel even more wetness seep out as my body contracts, every muscle stiffening under her touch. The world around me disappears.

After, she lies down on top of me, resting her head against my breasts. We don’t talk, but my hands are stroking her back absentmindedly, and she holds me tight. I notice that it’s getting cold. The snow has covered the windshield almost completely by now, but we can still see out from the side windows. It looks like a Christmas card outside. Perfect.

When Annie, who’s more exposed to the cold air than I am, starts shivering, we reluctantly get dressed. Locating all our items of clothing is a challenge, and we put on whatever we find first. I start the engine, and we both sigh in relief when the heater kicks in. My car may be old, but it’s small, and it heats up quickly. We’re almost alone on the road, and the snow keeps falling. I can’t stop smiling, and I’d feel silly if Annie weren't smiling, too.

When we come home, I’m somewhat surprised to see that Peeta and Finnick are still awake. Buttercup is sleeping on Finnick’s lap and they are watching some kind of horror movie.

“How was the movie?” Peeta asks. Oh, right. I don't even remember which movie we saw, let alone what it was about.

“Uh, good,” I answer. I wonder if they can see the flush in my cheeks. I can certainly see the flush in Annie’s.

“Why are you wearing Katniss’s sweater?” Finnick asks Annie, and she bites her lip, smiling shyly as she looks over at me. My flush is now replaced by a deep blush.

Finnick raises an eyebrow and whistles. “Holy fuck,” Peeta murmurs.

“Nothing holy about it, Mellark,” I say, sitting down in his lap. His arms tighten around me as he kisses me deeply, and I wonder if he tastes Annie on my tongue. Judging by the erection pressing into my thigh, I think he does.

“Let us watch next time?” he breathes into my ear.

“Perhaps if you’re a good boy,” I smirk, and he laughs.

 

* * *

 

As Christmas is near, our relationship evolves. It’s not just a matter of curiosity or sexual desire anymore, it goes beyond that. I can’t even describe it to myself, so I don’t bring it up.

I love Peeta. There is no question in my heart about it. But confusingly, I’ve come to love Finnick and Annie, too. I’m not sure if it’s the same kind of love. It's probably not, but it’s definitely **something**. Something that goes beyond friendship and casual fucking.

We expand our boundaries, day by day. One day, when Annie and I come home from work late, we find Peeta and Finnick in bed together. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, but I still am. I’m not sure how far they actually went, and I don't ask. Neither Peeta nor Finnick volunteers information about it afterwards, but it’s clear something has happened.

I collapse in bed early, exhausted after a particularly difficult day at work. When I wake up later that night to go to the bathroom, my bed is empty. I can hear tell-tale sounds coming from the other bedroom and I know that all the three others are somehow involved. Blinking against the strong light in the hallway, I find myself opening the door to the other bedroom. I’m not sure if perhaps I shouldn’t, but despite my tiredness, I can’t help myself. Besides, the insistent throbbing between my thighs doesn’t give me any real choice. I gasp when I see Annie on her knees, with Peeta’s dick in her mouth, and Finnick taking her from behind. They must have reached a critical point, judging from their sounds. Annie is clearly coming, and Peeta can’t be too far behind. From the concentrated look in Finnick’s face I see that he will come within minutes as he keeps pounding into her. I watch, paralyzed, until Peeta comes. I love watching him come even if I’m not the one who’s making him do it, and I feel my heart racing in my chest. Only then do I go to the bathroom to do what I originally left my bed for.

When I return, they must all be done. All I hear is ragged breathing and rustling of sheets, as well as a slight creaking in the bed when someone is moving. I consider entering the bedroom, but decide against it. This is their moment. I remind myself that we don’t all have to do everything together, all of the time.

I go back to our bedroom, what is still Peeta’s and my bedroom, and I quickly fall asleep again.

When I wake the next morning, the apartment is quiet. I must be the first one to wake up. It’s Saturday, and Peeta has the day off, so for once he doesn’t have to get up at five to go to work. I make coffee and some sandwiches, put everything on a tray and gently knock on the door to Finnick and Annie’s bedroom. There’s no reply, so I open the door and walk inside. Peeta lifts his head from the pillow when he hears the door opening. For a second he seems confused, halfway between sleep and being awake, but then he smiles. That lazy morning smile that I love. “Hey, Katniss,” he says. I put the tray down on the floor and sit down next to him, kissing him. He has morning breath, but I don’t care.

“Good morning.”

Finnick appears from underneath the sheets, his hair unruly. He looks like he’s ten years old early in the morning – that is until I see his muscular, naked chest, of course. He kicks Annie gently to wake her, and she groans, putting the pillow over her head to shut out the light while cursing under her breath. “Annie, Katniss made us breakfast in bed,” Finnick says, and the promise of food is enough to coax Annie out from underneath the pillow.

“Really?” She looks up at me, hopeful, and I smile, starting to hand out the mugs. “Oh, you’re the perfect girlfriend.”

I’m momentarily startled by her choice of words, but Peeta says “She is, isn’t she?” Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

The two others nod in agreement, and I blush. I am Peeta’s girlfriend. Was. I’m his **wife** now **.** But am I Finnick and Annie’s girlfriend now, too? It feels weird. But not wrong. Annie groans when she sits up, and casting one look at her, I know why. “Busy last night?” I smirk.

She actually blushes. “Yeah. I’m fucking sore. And I’ve got, um… cum in my hair.” A section of hair on one side of her face is stiff.

“You are so disgusting, Annie,” Peeta scolds her with a smirk, and he ducks when Annie swings her arm out to punch him, because we all know whose cum it is.

“You watched us last night, didn’t you?” Annie asks me, and I nod.

“Yeah,” I answer. “I’m surprised you noticed. You know, considering…”

“I thought it was a dream at first,” she confesses. “You turned around, you left. I only saw you briefly… You know, after.” I know what she means. When she returned to earth after what at least sounded like it must have been one of her top ten orgasms ever. She takes a bite from her sandwich, and sighs contentedly. “Join us next time?”

I smile into my cup of coffee.

 

* * *

 

It’s Christmas Eve. I’m so happy we decided to celebrate Christmas at home. No family drama, no wondering what I can or can’t say to my mother, no kids crazy on sugar highs throwing tantrums because they don’t want to wait for their presents, no mother-in-law bitching me around making me feel worthless.

Instead, we start the day with Glühwein at breakfast. Then Peeta and I go for a walk. It’s still snowing, and our neighborhood looks just like a Christmas card. So bright and quiet and perfect. When we come home, Finnick and Annie have finished the last bit of cleaning we didn’t have time for the day before. We eat, drink and keep feeding the fire in the fireplace. Our house is filled with warmth, laughter, the smell of bread and cinnamon, Glühwein and soap.

Peeta and I have a Christmas CD, which we play exactly one day a year, on Christmas Eve. Peeta got it for me the first Christmas we were together, and this is what truly gets me in the holiday spirit, every year. I’m not much of a choir person, but I do love Christmas carols, preferably if they have been recorded in an actual cathedral. I can actually hear it, what the location does to the music. It’s like the voices reach some kind of new level of Christmas.

I, Katniss Everdeen-Mellark, am a sucker for Christmas.

I even sing along at one point, to one of my favorite carols. I don’t sing often. I haven’t really sung aloud since my father died because it reminds me too much of him. It was something we used to do together, and when he died, I closed off that part of myself. It hurt too much. But now, in the comfort of my own home, I sing along with the ancient hymn. 

_“O come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant!_  
 _O come ye, O come ye to Bethlehem;_  
 _Come and behold him_  
 _Born the King of Angels:_  
 _O come, let us adore Him,_  
 _O come, let us adore Him,_  
 _O come, let us adore Him,_  
 _Christ the Lord.”_

Only when it’s finished do I notice the way the three others are looking at me. It’s very quiet for a few seconds after the end of the hymn.

“You sing like an angel,” Finnick finally murmurs.

Peeta looks stunned. “I had no idea you could sing,” he confesses. He looks almost hurt. “How could I be married to you for years without knowing?”

I blush and look down, not sure how to explain both the pain and the joy that are associated with singing. “My dad… My dad used to sing,” I finally whisper. Peeta gently brushes a tear away from my cheek.

After dinner, I nurse a glass of red wine in front of the fireplace, my feet bare and my hair loose around my shoulders. Peeta joins me, he sits down behind me, his legs outside mine. I lean closer to him, loving the feeling of his strong arms around me. He’s smelling my hair. Then he pushes the hair away from one of my shoulders and kisses my neck. He sucks lightly, and I can’t stop my body from shivering in response. “Peeta…” I say, and it’s partly a word, partly a moan. One of his hands sneaks underneath my clothes, finding a breast, and kneading it. The sound I’m making now is definitely a moan.

Annie is lying on the couch, looking at us. Buttercup is in her lap. Finnick is sitting next to her, her feet in his lap. “You know, under normal circumstances, I’d tell you to get a room,” she says.

“Then why don’t you?” Peeta answers, momentarily pausing his kissing of my neck to talk, then he grazes my shoulder with his teeth as soon as he finishes his sentence.

“Because... I’m torn between wanting to watch you right where you are, and wanting to ask you if we could join you in that room,” she says. 

“What do you say, Katniss?” Peeta says, opening the buttons of my jeans and dipping his hands into my panties. I gasp, and he hisses in my ear as he finds me – not unexpectedly – dripping wet with desire.

“Yes,” I moan, and after that, there is no more talking.  I take Peeta's hand in mine, and lead him to our bedroom. Our bed is larger than Finnick and Annie’s, so it’s the logical choice. Fire burns in his eyes as he undresses me, ripping open my blouse, and several buttons end up on the floor. I tear at his clothes, but I don’t really make any progress with undressing him because he’s so busy undressing me. I’m helped by another small pair of strong hands – Annie's.

Before long, no clothing remains. It’s nothing like I thought it would be – I have imagined this, dreamed of it, so many times. But now that we are here, together, the reality of it all threatens to overwhelm me. I again have to force myself to stop thinking. I just… do. Feel. Love. Breathe.

There are so many hands, so many legs, so many things to do, so much skin to touch. It’s confusing and awkward at times, and there is chuckling or giggling now and then, even a whimper of pain when a knee ends up where it wasn’t supposed to. I attempt to keep track of who’s touching me where, but I quickly give up trying. I also stop caring about just who I’m touching where. I find myself lying on the back on our bed, I’m not sure how I got here. Peeta is eating me out when I throw out a hand, my eyes half-closed, touching whoever is close. Two thick fingers inside me and Peeta’s tongue on my clit are making it hard to focus on anything at all, but I realize it must be Finnick when my fingers close around an erect cock, and I know it can’t be Peeta because he’s between my thighs. Finnick moans as I start pumping him. It’s certainly not the best hand job I’ve ever given a guy, as I’m feeling myself getting closer and closer to coming, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Annie is kneeling over me, watching us all wide-eyed. I register that she licks her lips, and then her mouth is on mine, at the exact moment that I come undone from Peeta’s tongue. Everyone says he has a silver tongue, but right now he has a tongue of fire. Annie kisses me through my climax, swallowing my moans. 

After I come down from my high, I lie there, sprawled over the bed, unable to move a muscle. I try to catch my breath, looking up at a spot in the ceiling. Annie has gone back to Finnick, she is riding him, while Peeta has kissed his way up my body to my neck. His chin is wet with my juices. He kisses me, and I taste myself on his tongue. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and his eyes hold mine. “I love you,” he murmurs.

“I love you too,” I answer, a lazy, sated smile on my swollen lips. I know I have that post-orgasm glow that he loves so much, I can see it from the way he looks at me. I can feel his erect cock against my thigh, but he doesn’t make a move to enter me. Instead he looks over at Annie and Finnick. With a light kiss on my lips, he crawls over to them. Annie is still riding her husband. I’ve seen her with both Peeta and Finnick before, and I know she loves being on top. She’s gorgeous when she’s on top, too. Her hair is wild, as wild as she is in this very moment. She’s thrown her head backwards, and her hips are working against Finnick’s.

“Scoot up,” Peeta says to Finnick, and for a second I wonder why, what he’s planning to do. Finnick, who is otherwise occupied, stops his pounding for a few seconds, nodding. He stops Annie with his hands on her hips, and she releases him as he slips out of her. His cock is hard and glistening with her juices, and my insides clench again, just looking at it.

What happens next takes my breath away. Finnick scoots up in the bed until he’s half lying, half sitting against the headrest, supported by pillows. Annie doesn’t waste one single second, she’s lowering herself onto him again, continuing where she left off. And Peeta… He’s on his knees beside Finnick, close to him, facing me, so I can see everything. Finnick grabs Peeta's cock, stroking it a few times up and down and then, with a swift movement, he takes him in his mouth. I can’t stop my gasp when I see it, and Peeta, whose eyes were fixed on Finnick, immediately looks at me, almost questioningly. I knew something happened between Finnick and Peeta the other day, but I didn’t know exactly what. I see now that oral sex must have been at least part of it, because it’s clear from the way Finnick strokes Peeta's sac just the way I know he likes it, that they’ve done this before. Seeing the lips of another man around my husband’s cock is shocking, but also oddly arousing. I rub my thighs against each other while whimpering slightly, my body still numb from my orgasm. Annie has a clear view of what the men are doing, too, but there's no surprise on her face. She’s seen this before. She moans louder, and it's clear that watching them is turning her on. She increases both her speed and her volume, as she gets closer. When she comes, Finnick’s mouth leaves Peeta’s cock, and we all look at her as every muscle in her body seems to contract. She is so small and strong and wiry and beautiful, and I love watching her breasts dance on her chest as she spasms. She collapses on Finnick’s chest after, and Peeta strokes her back, lovingly.

I’ve gained control of my body again, at least somewhat, and I sit up. “Please…” I say, I don’t care if it sounds like I’m begging, because I am. Although I’m not even sure what I’m begging for. “Please, take me.” I guess I knew what I was begging for after all.

And then, he’s there. My Peeta. I’m still sensitive, too sensitive for him to touch my clit, and he knows it. He knows my body so well after all these years. He enters me, slowly and a bit tentatively at first. I know he’s coated with Finnick’s saliva, and my own body is slick and wet. When he’s all the way inside he exhales deeply, and my body shudders in response. “Fuck me now,” I moan, and he does. It’s slow and deep at first, he’s in my very core, then he picks up speed. I feel hands on me, I don’t think they can be his, and they drive me even wilder. He flips us over so that I’m on top. I happily accept the new responsibility, and twist my hips against his, making a twirling motion I know he loves.

I’m startled by someone moving behind me, skin touching the skin of my back and ass. I stop my movements and look back over my shoulder, and I’m not surprised to see Finnick. His cock is pulsating, hard and hot, against my back. “Can we try something?” He asks and for a split second I want to reject him. I don’t want to take him there, I don’t. But he just smiles, and shakes his head. “No, Katniss… Together.”

“Together?” Peeta says, his voice strangled.

“Together,” he nods. And then I feel his finger, prodding my opening where Peeta is already inside, so deep. Finnick is touching both me and Peeta, and Peeta groans underneath me.

“Are you serious?” I ask, wide-eyed. “Is there even… room for both of you?”

“We’ll take it slow,” Finnick reassures me. “And yes, there is room for both… You really should watch more porn, Katniss.” He says it as a joke, I know he does, but at the same time I know he’s referring to my “pure” status, the one all the three others seem to agree on.

“Try it, Katniss,” Annie says, kissing my neck. She’s lying close to me now, still breathless. Her pupils are fully dilated, so large her eyes look almost black. “It’s amazing.”

I nod. I trust them all. They would never hurt me. “Okay.” Finnick smiles, and to my surprise he doesn’t immediately try to enter me. Instead he moves up to me, kissing me slowly and lovingly while I continue fucking Peeta. Then he's gone. As Peeta continues to fuck me and Annie kisses me while her fingertips gently pinch my nipples, I vaguely notice Finnick on the other side of the room. He finds lube in Peeta's top drawer and applies it liberally on his cock. I’m immediately grateful. I don’t generally need lube, but I have a feeling it might be useful now. Then he’s behind me again, stilling my motions with his hands on my hips.

“Lean forward a little,” he says, and I obey, resting my hands on Peeta’s upper body while my heart is hammering in my chest. Peeta already feels so huge inside of me. How can I possibly fit Finnick too? He’s not small, by any means.

Finnick must feel the tension in me, because he says soothingly: “Relax, Katniss. Relax. Breathe.” And I do. In and out, in and out. His finger is there again, teasing me. Then something slips in beside it, replacing it. It’s larger, much larger, and I know it’s the head of his penis. A strangled cry leaves my throat, but I know it’s not pain, it’s just surprise and pleasure. Finnick must understand, because he pushes in another inch, then waits, allowing me time to adjust. Through it all, my face is just inches from Peeta’s. Our eyes are locked. His mouth is open, I can see his face twisting when Finnick moves. I know that he can feel it too, that he feels Finnick as much as I do. We’re being explored together. It’s as if Finnick is taking us both. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this close to Peeta.

There’s a sharp pinch of pain when Finnick makes a too sudden movement, and I tense and gasp. Thankfully, he stops immediately, allowing me time to adjust again. Annie helps, touching my exposed skin and trailing kisses down the side of my neck. I concentrate on my breathing and Peeta’s cloudy eyes underneath me, and after a few moments, I nod that he can continue. It’s aching, but it’s a delicious ache, and nothing I’ve ever done sexually before can compare to this. I can’t stop the low, guttural moan when Finnick is finally all the way inside of me as well. My walls are so stretched that it’s as if I can feel them both pulsating inside of me, together, at the same time. Then I’m lost. What happens now? Who’s moving? Me? One of them? Both of them? It’s clear Finnick has tried this before, but judging from Peeta’s glassy stare, I don’t think he has. Fortunately, Finnick can guide us through it. Still not moving, he kisses my neck lightly. “You okay, Katniss?” I nod. “You, Peeta?”

Peeta makes a sound I can’t quite interpret. “I’m so close,” he finally manages to say, through clenched teeth. “God, that feels…”

“I know,” Finnick answers. “But you need to try to hold on a bit longer. Okay?”

“Breathe, Peeta,” Annie murmurs, as she runs her fingers through his hair. He smiles and actually rolls his eyes. I don’t dare to move a muscle, I know that when Peeta warns that he’s close, it’s the truth. He needs some time to regain control of himself. He looks from Annie to me, and then over to Finnick. Finally, he exhales. “Okay,” he says, his voice husky. “Now what?”

“Now we figure out how Katniss likes this best,” Finnick says. “I’ll start, and then you can move with me in a little while, okay? We need to be sure this isn’t too much for her.” I’m grateful they are all so considerate of me – I really have no idea what to expect, and I might need some time to adjust to this. Then Finnick retreats a few inches, slowly, and plunges back in. It’s the strangest feeling – feeling the friction not all around my walls, but just one part. On the front wall, I just feel the deliciously increased pressure of Peeta being pressed into me, no friction or movement. It's even stranger to watch my own husband experiencing somehow the same feeling that I am. We react together to Finnick, to his movements. It’s almost like we’re one. I bend forward further, my mouth meeting Peeta’s, and our kiss is long, deep and hard. I swallow his moan, and don’t release him until I have to breathe. Finnick moves faster now, more sure of himself, or rather of us. I need every oxygen molecule my lungs can inhale to keep up, as my moans grow steadily louder. Tentatively, Peeta tries moving, too. It takes him a few strokes to get the rhythm right, but when he does, it feels like my body is going to explode. The sensations are beyond anything I ever thought possible. When they are both moving in me, Peeta’s cock hits a spot just right, and all I can do, is stare at him wide-eyed while I actually scream, embarrassingly loud. Finnick stills momentarily, but Peeta sees in my face that it’s not a scream of pain, but one of pleasure, and keeps going.  The tension builds much faster than usual. My walls contract almost impossibly hard around them. I feel hands all over me, steadying me by my hips, kneading my breasts, even grabbing handfuls of my hair. I’m being torn apart among my lovers. I throw my head backwards, my body shaking and twisting while Peeta and Finnick move together inside of me. There is no reservation on their parts anymore, and I don’t want them to hold back anyway.

I’m coming down from the wave when I feel Peeta pulsing inside of me, and I see from his face that he’s coming. It’s enough to send me over the edge again, and absently, as if far away, I hear Finnick shouting behind me, and I know he must be coming, too. This time my orgasm is less intense but lasts longer, it seems to go on forever. I’m milking every drop out of them. Feeling two men come almost simultaneously inside me is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Peeta is still bucking against me as I collapse like a ragdoll on his chest. Finnick is still inside me, following my movements, his breath hot and heavy on my neck. I gasp almost desperately for breath, and I try to say something, I don’t know what, but all that escapes from my lips is a faint whimper. Finally, Finnick slips out of me, and I feel something wet and sticky follow him – the mixture of his and Peeta’s seed. I’m too exhausted to move, and I’m not surprised when I hear Annie moan. I somehow find the strength to move my head to the side, and see that Finnick is fucking her. Again. I’m not quite sure how, he came just a minute ago, but I guess he’s using the last minutes of his erection to get her off, again.

And he does. He pounds into her tirelessly, almost desperately, and all I can think – my brain still hazy – is that Finnick had my juices, his own cum and Peeta’s cum on him, and now we’re all inside of Annie. It’s fitting, somehow. Annie comes with a protracted series of moans, and as he slips out of her afterwards, I see he’s gone mostly soft. He falls rather than lies down between Annie and Peeta. I’m lying on top of Peeta, he’s still inside me.

We lay in silence together for a long time, trying to catch our breath. Only now do I hear that the Christmas CD is still playing, Peeta must have put it on repeat. It’s odd, considering the circumstances, to hear the cathedral recording, but also very soothing. Outside the window, it’s snowing. My body feels heavy and sated, and I’m still throbbing between my legs. I hum quietly against Peeta’s chest, along with the music. He’s stroking my hair, slowly.

“So, have you been a good girl this year, Katniss?” Peeta asks me, his voice dark and vibrating against my face.

“No,” I answer quickly. “I think I’ll be getting coal from Santa this year. A **lot** of coal.”

Peeta chuckles. “I’ll have to agree. I think we’ll all get enough coal to last us through winter.”

“At least we’ll stay warm,” Annie giggles.

“Screw Santa,” Finnick says.

I sit up and look at him. “Seriously?” I ask in mock disbelief. “Four’s not enough for you, we need to be **five**? I’m not sure if I want to bring an old, fat guy with a drinking problem into this relationship.”

“Who said Santa has a drinking problem?” Finnick asks.

“Have you seen that nose? And that beer belly? Not to mention the maniacal laugh? Santa’s a raging alcoholic, I’m telling you.”

“Okay, okay,” Finnick sighs. “I promise. It’s just the four of us. Just us. Okay?” I nod, and my hand finds his. Peeta is still playing with my hair, and Annie’s leg is stretched out over Finnick’s thigh, touching mine. I’m warm, sated, content, and still slightly drunk from the Glühwein. In this moment, everything is just right. Perfect. I could freeze this moment, and stay in this bed forever with these three people.

“Merry Christmas,” I say.

“Merry Christmas,” the three others answer, simultaneously. Then I fall asleep, with my head on Peeta’s shoulder.

 

* * *

 

**EPILOGUE**

There’s no perfect Christmas snow this year. Instead, it’s raining. The lack of snow makes it seem so dark outside. It’s as if the day only lasts a few hours, and the nights seem endless. It doesn’t matter, though. Inside of our house, there is plenty of light and warmth.

The contractors working on Annie and Finnick’s apartment needed much longer than three months to finish the job, as I predicted. In March, when they still hadn’t gotten a completion date from the contractors, Finnick had had enough. That night, over dinner, he suggested that we sell both our house and their apartment, and buy a new house.

Together.

My first reaction was shock.

My second reaction was joy.

It took us a few months to find the perfect house, but in July we did. It’s in the countryside, with a large garden. It’s by a lake, and we have our own private pier, leading to perfect swimming waters, when the weather allows. Buttercup loves the cat run we built for him in the garden. We have to commute a bit longer to go to work, but we decided it was worth it. It’s a two-family house. The previous owners had the place completely renovated, but then when they were finally done, they decided they wanted to move to Florida instead. Their loss is our gain, I suppose. We could've moved in without having to paint a single wall. Considering how Finnick felt about contractors after the nightmare of the water-damaged apartment, that was a good option to have. But we did make changes.

Officially, we bought the house together because it was the only way we could ever afford a house like this with our quite modest salaries. And officially, Peeta and I live in the larger apartment of the house, and Annie and Finnick in the smaller one. That’s what our neighbors and colleagues all think.

Unofficially, we knocked down the wall that separated the two apartments. We still have two kitchens, two living rooms and three bathrooms combined, and we don’t spend every single second together. There are evenings when Peeta and I have dinner alone, or when Annie and Finnick watch TV together in their living room, while Peeta and I play chess in the other.

The central heating is fueled by coal, a rather old heating system which was pretty much the only thing the previous owners didn’t do anything about. It’s not very environmentally friendly, but it seems appropriate, considering. Finnick doubled over in laughter when he heard it from the real estate agent before we bought it, and we couldn’t tell her why.

In the fall, we learned to live together. It’s not always easy. There are times when we argue that I’m happy we don’t have any neighbors nearby. There is certainly more potential for disagreements when we are four. On the other hand, it’s never one against one. It’s easier to get all sides of the conflict on the table. Usually, at least one person keeps their calm. We learn how to solve conflicts together. As a unit.

Not celebrating Christmas together in our new house was never an option. I invited Prim and her new boyfriend- the one she went to Bali with became an ex shortly after New Year’s, but I’m relieved when she says she’ll stay at home with our mother.

It’s Christmas Eve. We are in what is technically Peeta's and my bedroom, though Finnick's art hangs on the wall, and Annie's clothes peek out of my dresser, all resting on our California king sized bed. The rain is dripping from the roof. The sound is comforting. I know I should wish for snow, it’s Christmas after all, but I love the sound of rain on the roof. It always lulls me to sleep. My belly is full of Glühwein and turkey.

Someone, I’m not quite sure if it was Finnick or Peeta, came on my thigh. I feel sticky, but I don’t care.  

“Can you sing for us, Katniss?” Peeta asks. He hasn’t asked for me to sing, not since he heard me sing for the first time last Christmas. 

I kiss his hand, the only part of him within my reach because Annie is lying between us. I sing in the darkness:

_Silent night, holy night!_  
 _All is calm, all is bright._  
 _Round yon Virgin, Mother and Child._  
 _Holy infant so tender and mild,_  
 _Sleep in heavenly peace,_  
 _Sleep in heavenly peace._

As I finish, I realize Annie and Peeta must have fallen asleep. Only Finnick is still awake, if barely.

“Merry Christmas,” I whisper to them, and then I close my eyes, too. 

 


End file.
